


Leia in White

by SteelRigged



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst, Angst and Humor, BAMF Women, Black Humor, C-3P0 can actually be interesting!, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Finished. This is Finished!, Gallows Humor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intrigue, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, Other, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Sex, Sexual Content, Suicide Attempt, There is sex and it is part of the story., Thriller, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Women Being Awesome, Women In Power, Women in the Military, lots of snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelRigged/pseuds/SteelRigged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia fled with several other senators and Han has to find her.</p><p>Oh, and he also has to find a way to stop the political crisis that drove her off</p><p>It's just unfair that galactic politics are this damn personal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Say Something Inappropriate and Nasty

**Author's Note:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a transformative work. 
> 
> This story jumps back and forth in time. 
> 
> This is for every female solider that never got her full due, and for everyone that has soldiered through depression, and for everyone that loved someone in that fight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "She set me up!" Han complained. He angrily tugged at his sleeves and coat tail pulling out the wrinkles.

ABY 35

General Han Solo paced restlessly in the small antechamber to Leia's Senate box. The metallic threads embroidered into the fabric irritated his skin, and he scratched at his stiff collar. C-3PO stood nervously by the door, closing it whenever it started to open. He kept the lobbyists, tourist, and the other eyes of the Senate nominally at bay. Solo's com buzzed and he wrestled it out of the strange pockets.

"Leia!" Han hissed, "Leia! Where are you?"

"Sorry dear, I can't tell you that." Her imperious Senator persona front and center. "I'm in free space but I think the line might be monitored and I can't risk Gree Percival trying to settle this with bounty hunters, or holding you on accessory to treason charges. I have other plans."

"Leia what are you talking about? Free space? Bounty hunters? Its been forever…, and when we do run into each other all you've talked about is that damned bill, so I figure when 3PO comes to get me, suit in hand, its going to be the usual dull signing ceremony with an open bar at the end--"

Han didn't get to the end of his run-on before Leia started talking over him. "I send you messages, I send the droids, but you won't look at them, you just complain that you never know what's going on. That is not my fault."

"It's true sir," 3PO started, "I did attempt to find--"

"No one's asking you," Han interrupted. "Don't make this about those stupid holograms," he said to Leia.

"Turn on the damned news then!" 

There was an extended pause.

Han looked at 3PO over his shoulder and then turned his back to the fuss bucket. Looking at the empty wall didn't actually increase his privacy, but it felt better.

"Leia, what have you done?"

"We've broken quorum. At least a quarter of the Senate has fled."

"Okay," he drew out new syllables from the word, "and how long will you be gone?"

"As long as it takes."

"And this news didn't merit a personal conversation?" The sarcasm was just starting to pull up the left side of his lip.

"I came home to pack, sleep a little." Her voice was suddenly heavy. "I figured you'd stumble in at some point. Not my fault that you didn't."

Han put his forehead against the wall and sighed out through his nose. "Leia, I--" 

"Han, this argument is old and we really don't need to go over it now."

"Okay," he tried again. "You're gone and you're pissed, I get that." He turned to face the empty room again. "What am I doing here?"

"You should listen to 3PO's message." 

"But I already have you on the line?" he replied matching her tone. He could hear the smile she was trying to hold back, and the small soft snort that barely pinched it off.

"There's a letter and bill that I need you to deliver to the senate."

"Why can't 3PO do it?" 

"Because he's a protocol droid and you are a war hero, sweetie," Leia replied as C-3PO passed the paperwork to Han who glanced at it.

"If this has to do with the Jedi Council why don't you have Jacen here? That's his cause isn't it?"

The pause was awkward.

"Jacen's with you isn't he."

"Well, let's just say that Jacen is indisposed."

"You needed a smuggler to get you off world and a diplomat to deliver a letter, and these are the jobs we got? No. No, don't say anything else about it" Han grumbled. "You just tell your son that my ship is a historical treasure," his hands were balling up into fists despite the papers "and if he puts one single scratch on it--"

"We didn't take the Falcon," there was a hint of laughter in her voice. "It's too recognizable. The docking permits alone would have been an absolute nightmare. Not to mention getting around those damned curators."

Han was flabbergasted. "I hope you are not trying to fly around free space in some untested bucket of bolts!" A series of angry growls rattled the speaker.

"Chewie! You've got Chewie involved in this too! That over-the-hill fur ball is retired and legally blind!"

There were more growls, moving from aggressive snarls to plaintive bellows.

"I don't care if you were bored!" Han replied. "How many times have I told you that the point is to keep her out of trouble, not put on a collar and shuffle along with her schemes!"

He got a low rough rumbling in response.

"Chewie! Did you just say that in front of my son. Leia, did he just--"

"Han! Chewie came to me. The Wookie ambassador is also breaking quorum. He knew I'd want to go too, and he knew I'd need a good ship."

There was a distressed rolling grunt in the background. "No, No, he didn't mean to insult you," Jacen said reassuringly, his voice slightly distorted. "He's always said you could build a better engine than anyone else blind-folded and upside down."

"The Wookies are not happy," Leia continued, ignoring them. "Jania says the embassy has been buzzing with battle howls for months. She's glad she talked them into trying this before they decided to march on Gree Percival's embassy in protest. The Wookies aren't exactly known for their peaceable assemblies."

"You've let our only daughter work among angry Wookies? For months?" Han asked, zeroing in on the only relevant info.

Leia sighed heavily, "I don't get to _let_ Jania do anything, anymore, sweetheart. Neither do you. All we get to do is try and help."

"I'm helpful. I'm always helpful."

"Good, then go deliver my letter and say something inappropriate and nasty to Gree Percival."

"How nasty?" asked Han.

"Nasty enough to sooth any angry Wookies that might be watching." 

This was the part she enjoyed. He knew exactly how her eyes would twinkle. Chewie roared excitedly with suggestions.

"I'll keep that in mind, buddy," said Han, smiling himself. "What else?" 

"Tell Jania I love her," said Leia, "I didn't get to say goodbye."

"How about I tell her to get a safer job?"

"There's also a letter for Luke," Leia continued, her voice shading slightly. "You should take it to him if things go badly."

"Luke? Your brother is more useless now than he was thirty years ago. Wait, what do you mean _'if things go badly'_? How badly could they go?"

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"I love you," Leia said, and suddenly Han was actually afraid.

"Leia, you're not answering my question."

Her voice felt very far away from him. His own voice, even farther.

"I know," she said, and the signal cut off.

"Leia? Leia!" Han threw the silent com across the room. When the red cleared from his vision he realized 3PO was trying to get his attention.

"3PO! That woman!" He let the droid push him toward Leia's senate box.

"Yes, Sir," replied 3PO, as he punched the entrance code.

"She set me up!" He angrily tugged at his sleeves and coat tail pulling out the wrinkles.

"Yes, Sir. It does appear so, Sir," said 3PO, as the doors opened and the vast sphere of the Senate amphitheater opened up before them. "But circumstances have been rather dire lately and the Princess has been very careful of late, even around even her most trusted confidants."

Han pulled his foot back, ending his step across the threshold before it happened.

"Dire? What do you mean _dire?_ " 

"Really we must go in now, sir." A giant projection of Han filled the middle of the sphere.

"Politics" Han muttered, and it echoed on a massive scale.


	2. What Does He Mean Hostage?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han learns how high the stakes of the political crisis are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a transformative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

The giant Solo hologram was soon joined by a giant projection of Gree Percival.

"Good afternoon, General Organa Solo," Gree Percival said, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth in that lizard way. "Why have you graced us with your presence?"

"Leia sent me," Han muttered.

"Is the Honorable Senate President indisposed?" Gree Percival asked. He used a cold-blooded, overly precise dictation to try and hold back the natural hiss of his voice.

"Yea, I guess that's a way to put it." Han looked down at his hands a little lost, and was relieved to discover Leia's papers were still in them. 

"I've got a letter and a bill, from Leia, from Princess Leia Organa Solo, of the Alderaan Delegation. I'm here to present them."

"Really?" asked Gree Percival, "and have you been given full proxy authority to vote for the Alderaan seat as well, considering you bring the bill?" 

Han looked at C-3PO, who quickly shuffled forward to lean into the ambit of the microphone. 

"General Organa Solo is here under parliamentary rule 27963 QRX 0093(A)(11)(f) as next-of-kin to Senator Organa Solo and a free citizen of the Republic in good standing."

"So, then" said Gree Percival with what passed for a grin on his reptilian face, "Not her proxy, but her hostage. How very generous of you General, I would not have thought you the type. Even apart from the well known problems with your marriage. How noble of you."

"Jeez, Leia said you were the wrong end of a Rancor, but I didn't think she meant your face." 

Nervous twitters swept the floor. The joke wasn't that good, but there were still a few loud growling guffaws. Han covered his microphone with his hand while the noise rose and fell.

"3PO," Han whispered "what does he mean hostage?"

"Gree Percival and his cohort have been invoking some rather obscure rules of the imperial parliamentary code." 

"We got rid of imperial law ages ago." 

"The laws yes," said 3PO, "but not the parliamentary procedures. There were many things that appeared more pressing and we all quite trusted in the discretion of the Senators, however our trust was, perhaps, overly generous."

"The point 3PO, _her hostage?_ " 

"Under P.R. 2724(B)(9)(x) it is a capital offense for a Senator to abandon this post without leaving a successor or hostage to guarantee a return. Last month Gree Percival issued magisterial death warrants for seven Senators who were not present to vote on his refugee culture bill. He has pre-filed several more warrants against the Senators that protested and were expected to break quorum rather than let the refugee culture bill be brought again to the floor," 3PO hesitated in that particularly polite way, "including I am sorry to say, our Princess Leia."

"General Organa Solo" came the booming voice of Gree Percival, "are you quite done conversing with your protocol droid? He should have warned you to check that salty humor of yours. The joke you have made at my expense today is a serious breech of Senate decorum, however we shall magnanimously let the offense pass."

"No" Han replied instantly, the word a whip crack in the echoing sphere.

"No, General Organa Solo?" 

"No, I wouldn't let it pass. You see, I don't extend the _courtesy_ of my humor to imperial wannabees who issue death warrants. Especially when those threats are against my wife. So that last thing I said? Not a joke. Rancor backside. Your face. Excrement, everything that comes out of your mouth."

Gree Percival piloted his senate box close enough that Han could see the red lining of puckered and scaly green grimace. Han sat up straighter reflexively, then leaned casually back into his seat. 

Gree Percival floated his box up until his head was just a few inches above the General's.

"You may be the Hero of Endor General Organa Solo," Gree Percival said, with no amplification but his anger, "but that will not stop me from holding you in full contempt of this senate."

3PO stepped forward and somehow invisibly re-engaged the microphones, "Excuse me? But on what grounds would you allege that General Organa Solo has committed contempt?"

"The Vulgarity Clause." Gree Percival was also again at full volume over a hushed senate.

"Ahh. I am afraid that rule is irrelevant to the current situation. General Organa Solo is not a sworn member of this senate and is therefore not subject to the vulgarity clause." The whirring of 3PO his gyros added and unexpected flourish to the words.

"He can still be expelled." Gree Percival's long tongue flashing angrily around his lips and nostril slits.

"No he cannot!" 3PO spoke with unusual force. "Not as long as he is acting as Senator Organa Solo's hostage." 

The droid was happy as a clam in saltwater, this was exactly what he was built for. 

Gree Percival hissed and revealed his fangs in frustration. Han made a broad gesture of innocence, turning his hands palm up and shrugging his shoulders. Gree Percival started to make angry sucking sounds and his fangs turned a light glossy purple.

"You can however turn off his microphone," 3PO apologized in a rush, "if you find his behavior disruptive."

Gree nodded, and with a final hiss the large hologram of General Organa Solo disappeared in a wink.

"3PO," Han said sweetly, as Gree Percival jetted away across the room, "I had more to say to that man."

"No doubt, Sir. But Gree Percival's venom is deadly and can be projected up to 16 feet. I do not think that his diplomatic immunity would protect him from charges of murder on the senate floor, but I see no reason we should be the test case for such a matter. Sir."

Han rolled his eyes. "And here I thought Leia's job was boring."

"Only on the good days."

Gree Percival's grating voice filled the Senate chamber again. "As ranking officer, I hereby call this session of the New Republic Senate to order. Our first item of business will be to decide if it is proper to continue to maintain full Senate voting privileges for all world-less cultures, or if said groups should instead be represented by a single refugee coordinator."

"The Wookie Alliance objects!" said a bright familiar voice. A young woman's face filled the space in the center of the senate orb. She was dark-headed, petite, and definitively not a Wookie.

"Jania," Han murmured to himself.

"The chair does not recognize the hostage for the Wookie Alliance," Gree Percival replied. 

Han's desire to spit his own poison grew exponentially. He turned to 3PO. 

"Jania? How can she be a hostage, she's not next-of-kin to any Wookie."

"She has been an inducted member of Chewbacca's clan since she was eight days old. And Chewbacca, of course, has been a high Kahn of the Wookies since the fall of the Imperium. His clan is very small, but several of the larger clans have sworn allegiance as the due honor of his sacrifices. That was deemed more than enough to qualify Mistress Jania. Any assault upon her would start a war as quickly as an assault upon Chewbacca himself."

"Member of his clan? You mean that little party we threw to make Chewie the twins' godfather. That was honorary."

"I do not believe that is how the Wookies view it, Sir." 

Han tapped his knuckles on the counter restlessly. 

"When?" He wanted to know how long his little girl had been hostage to this madman's politics.

"Two and a half days." 3PO understood perfectly.

No one told him anything anymore.

Jania's face filled the room again. "There is no chair with the authority to deny my right to speak, with Alderaan's absence, the quorum has been broken. This senate may sit for debate only."

"Why didn't Leia tell me?" Han asked petulantly.

"Mistress Jania's presentation of herself as hostage was contested, for many of the same reasons you just brought up. The allegations were serious and Senator Organa Solo was unwilling to leave until Mistress Jania's status had been successfully resolved. I do believe she sent you several messages, I know R2 tired to take you at least two" 3PO was rubbing salt in the wound.

"I do not think quorum has been broken," said Gree Percival pompously. "I see no reason a vote cannot proceed."

"Then I demand that the quorum be polled," said Jania.

"You are a hostage, not a proxy!" Gree Percival's glee with barely contained. "You have no right to make such a demand."

"The Jedi Counsel makes the demand," said another familiar voice. Luke's sandy gray head and dower black robes took up their own holographic space. "Or do you deny our authority to request that the quorum be polled as well?"

 _Just like the old days,_ Han thought, _kid shows up when you least expect him. I liked it better when that was my job._

"3PO," Han said, "I thought Luke was never here. Leia complains about it all the time."

3PO tilted back on his gyro, turning sharply toward Han, and away again just a quickly. 

"Master Luke checks his messages." 

Han barely resisted the urge to push 3PO over the side of the senate box.

"The Jedi Counsel," Gree Percival said carefully, "is only an advisory member of the Senate."

"Gree Percival," Luke sounded less careful, "in the past two weeks I have received from your office several magisterial warrants demanding the execution of dear friends. You hold one now against my only sister. I have the right to know if any of these have been issued with lawful authority. The Jedi Counsel has the right to demand such proof." 

"Luke!? They want Luke to kill Leia?" The words stuttered out of Han's mouth uncomfortable in their ridiculous sentence. 

"Enforcing certain magisterial degrees is a part of the Jedi's oath to the Senate." Han thought there was a slightly sour note in the droid's voice. 

"That lizard's an idiot! Luke would never! Never!" Han grasped for more words.

"I am not to give you the odds, remember Sir," 3PO said, as he rotated to the stare at the floating head of his favorite master. "But I certainly could not see Master Luke allowing the task to be given to a bounty hunter." The droid's words were quiet and serious. And so very wrong.

"3PO, you are missing the point."

"Am I? Gree Percival has been very precise in his use of the rules. Alderaan is a refugee house, a minor constituency with a remarkably large political influence. Now a Senator, the Senate President no less, has fled. She is bringing the government to a halt to protect what can quite objectively be called her own disproportionate power. The Jedi Counsel, still not really a counsel at all, is asked to demonstrate in the starkest way possible its claims to follow neutral principle above personal allegiance. I think it is a very dear crisis, indeed. R2 was so distressed at the thought of having to choose between either Master Luke or Princess Leia that he has been talking of organizing a shut-down among the navigational droids. As well as other . . . less considered acts that might cause substantial delay."

"Personal allegiance, is that what we are calling it now?" 

He turned to the controls, muttering at the machine. The box lurched forward into the arena and stuttered as Han figured out the specific touchiness of its jets.

"General, Sir!" 3PO lurched forward. "May I ask what you are doing?"

"The Jedi Counsel needs a second right?" He'd been married to a politician for over three decades. He wasn't completely ignorant. "I'm going to find one."

Han scanned the room. He zoomed his little box upward in a sharp arc settling into a float right in front of Senator Ackbar, the old Admiral himself.

"Hello you old fish." Han grinned his best crooked grin.

"General Organa Solo." Ackbar's voice was rough as dry ball bearings.

"You see what they are doing?" Han gestured to the center of the arena.

"Yes." Ackbar grimaced.

"Then why haven't you done something about it?"

"I do not have the protections your family enjoys." 

"Luke is not going to kill you, no matter how many pieces of paper Gree pins to his door." Han gave a broad dismissive wave.

"I do not fear the Jedi. I do question his singular ability to defend all parties he may soon be called to defend."

Han ground his teeth together.

"So," he said, pulling his thoughts slowly out of his anger. "These pompous idiots are talking about killing Leia. _Our_ Leia. And proud Admiral Ackbar who attacked two death stars won't speak up against it because he's become an old coward scared of bounty hunters!"

"How dare you insult me! You gambling drunk!"

"Don't think you can distract me with insults! I never had any honor remember!" Han wagged his finger. "That's what made Leia my better half. She brought me into the rebellion. She brought Luke into the rebellion. What did she do for you?"

"She talked Bail Organa into financing my first ship!" 

Moving fluidly from his argument with Han to an argument with the whole Senate, the Admiral leaned forward and opened his microphone, the holo of his head popping up like a giant red ballon. 

"We second the motion to have the quorum polled!" Ackbar ordered with all the old ferocity.


	3. The Appearance of Impropriety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking back, he thought, Leia must have guessed something was off long before he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

The quorum poll went the only way it could. Gree Percival left the chamber before it was a third over. 

Han was tired. His legs and arms heavy with spent adrenaline. C-3PO caught the formal coat as he shrugged himself out of it. His undershirt was drenched with sweat, so he took that off too. 

He thought about Leia, pregnant with the twins, the dark circles just starting to reside under her eyes. He'd caught her coat then. Pulled the heavy cream-colored brocade off her shoulder when the sweat held it to her skin. She'd had to arch backwards to avoid get her hair caught on the beading. The move got more awkward the bigger she grew. 

He could feel the heaviness of her braids in his hands, see the curve of her bare neck and shoulders as he lifted that long hair up away from the biting little blue seeds embroidered into the Organa sigils. 

When he rubbed her aching lower back she would moan. He swore it even made C-3PO blush. Eventually, Luke had been tasked with talking to them about the appearance of impropriety. 

They'd all had a good laugh. 

Being pregnant made Leia soft in an uncommon way. She'd always been a little maternal with her brother, but now she coaxed out his stories about life in the high desert. She wanted to know everything about what he loved. This little room was filled with those stories. With their laughter. They had chattered back and forth for days, until Luke brightly suggested that they name one of the kids Anakin. 

Leia responded by throwing a lamp at his head. 

Luke dodged, but there was enough blowback from where the ceramic and glass shattered against the wall to put a few bloody scratches on his cheek. He'd stood there shocked while Leia glowered.

Han could still see the dent in the wall, if he squinted. 

Han was suddenly light headed and wanted to sit, but the tiny couch seemed filled with her, too. She was giggling and prickled with goose-flesh, shushing him as he buried his nose into her scent. 

She'd cut her braids by then. That hair was never going to survive the twins. 

When he asked her why she held onto it so long, she wrapped an arm protectively across her deflated stomach and said she thought he wouldn't like the change. He'd laughed. They had promised to love and cherish each other, not to go the rest of their lives without a hair cut. 

He'd pulled her closer and kissed at the soft empty roundness of her belly working his way up. 

It was during one of these _special_ lunch meeting, in the warm whispered afterglow, that the Alderaan Project was conceived.

"For the twins," Leia said, but it was for her. It had always been for her.

She'd lost everything. Bail and Breha Organa would never see their grandchildren. Her siblings, her cousins, the aunts and uncles she'd grown up with, the family of courtiers, the homes and hidden places of her childhood: all of it was gone. Nothing left but a few chunks of rock under glass in the war memorial museum. 

She'd held onto the feeling that Luke was the same. His family also lost to Darth Vader, burned on the sands of Tatooine. But he wasn't really. 

He'd lost people. She'd lost a planet. He told the stories of his childhood with laughter. She didn't tell them at all.

The biggest difference of course was that Luke had found some way to reconcile with the man who wanted to be called "Father."

Leia, on the other hand, still woke up occasionally with the burning sensation of needles pricking her eyes. Her body shaking and covered in a cold, oily sweat that clung to his hands when he tried to calm her.

# # #

ABY 10-ABY 17

The Alderaan Refugee Project had been something to do about all that emptiness. A new world to be built. All they had to do was find the survivors. 

"Are you sure you're ready for all that again Your Worshipfulness? You've been a pirate for an awfully long time now."

"I don't think there are enough of us left for those ranks to matter anymore," she replied with a smile. But it didn't hold. Within the blink of an eye she'd been biting her lip nervously. He'd kissed her forehead in response.

Leia worked the high road, combing through the official records, making the necessary speeches and announcements. Han worked the low, digging people out of bars, smuggler's hollows, and much bleaker places.

Clara was one of the first survivors they found. She seemed so much like Leia when she came on board. Independent. A spitfire. She threw herself into the work and she was fantastic at finding refugees and survivors. People who had been working off world, or on vacation, or just in transit when the Death Star used their home as an _example._

He liked her. He knew that she and Leia would get along well, if they could ever get out of the office together. His wife needed a drinking buddy, someone else who remembered Alderaan the way she did. But Clara and Leia only ever had passing conversations about social networking strategies and target outreach programs. 

He was the one who ended up having the occasional drink with her, listening to the stories of Clara's migrant life after Alderaan was destroyed, flashing her pictures of his kids. To her, all his stories were brand new. It was nice. The way she listened.

The Project had hoped to find maybe a thousand people. Instead, they found sixty thousand. Not just a community, enough for a colony. 

There was talk of pomp and circumstance and medals. Leia was game, though she grumbled. Han got some great material out of it. Not that he didn't _always_ like getting a medal from his wife; but Clara had declined, saving them both. 

Looking back, he thought, Leia must have guessed something was off long before he did. He remembered vividly one particular Sunday morning; Leia was towling off her short hair, still in her blooming Sarlacc PJ's. They were pink gingham, and the monster's gaping maw and tentacles were patterned like dusty roses. Jania had the same ones. Waiting with breakfast was a message from Clara bowing out of another dinner invitation. 

They were both a little disappointed, and a little relieved. 

His lovely girl had looked at him with those big brown eyes,"Maybe she just doesn't want to get to know me." 

It had seemed like a joke at the time. A casual jibe about scheduling. 

"No, doubt. You're terrifying pajama's are half of what we talk about."

"What's the other half?" she returned his smirk.

"My terrifying pajamas." Leia had bought him and Jacen a matching set, each covered with little Ewoks tap dancing on a field of baby blue.

She smiled at him. "I should replace you both with more dedicated staff." 

He decided to show her just how dedicated he could be.


	4. A Soft Pale Cloud of Poison Gas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He waited for Leia to make a joke. For the sharp retort or snappy line he knew he deserved, but she just stood there so still and so pale. Her head down demurely. Her expression still terribly flat. Her dress glowed like the moon against the darkness, and she was just as far away and mysterious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 20

There was a ball. That's when it all broke. A formal ball for all the Alderaani refugees to celebrate a colonization treaty that Leia had negotiated. A place to start over. A ball with Leia in her official whites, still mourner-in-chief, but glowing like a star. She was the happiest he'd seen her since the day they got married. Maybe happier.

White, he'd learned, was a funeral color of Alderaan. Washed out death. Wearing it had started as a protest against the Imperium. Leia had been captured in a shroud. She had watched Alderaan explode while dressed as one of the dead.

He was on the other side of the hall, shaking hands and pushing cocktails when Leia and Clara collided, so he didn't hear what was said, not at first. All he saw was the circle of people open up around the two women. Leia pale and flushed. Clara red and angry. The hush rippling outward as he pushed through the crowd.

" . . .stone cold bitch!" Clara had said. "Hero my ass. I wish you had broken. If you had an inch of vulnerability none of this would have happened. If you hadn't been such a, a, _Vader_ ," she spat the word, "then Alderaan would never have burned. He should have killed you, that would have been a fair trade. You should have let them blow up Hoth! I don't care how important you are, you weren't worth it. You will never be worth it."

Leia's expression was totally flat, but Clara was blubbering--dark tears rolling down her ruddy cheeks, her chest heaving with sobs, her hands shaking. He'd never seen her so drunk.

"Clara!" Han snapped at her, grabbing her shoulders and putting himself between the two women. "What are you doing!?"

"She doesn't deserve you!" Clara cried.

He'd braced for her to pull away, to fight free, but she fell into him, wrapping her fists around his lapels and lifting her face into a kiss. A deep passionate kiss that she pressed up from her heels, touching every part of her body to every part of his. His eyes were frozen open in shock.

It took longer than it should have for him to push her away. Longer than it should to find the words he wanted after the kiss had ended, as Clara looked up at him with a desperate, impossible hope.

"You need to leave," he said. But it didn't come out as forcefully as he wanted it to. His teeth were too big in his mouth.

She nodded. Her head wobbly and her eyes wet. Then she turned and pushed through the crowd. God the crowd. That was the worst part.

He waited for Leia to make a joke. The verbal slap he deserved. She just stood there so still and so pale. Her head down demurely. Her expression still terribly flat. Her dress glowed like the moon against the darkness, and she was just as far away and mysterious.

He walked close to her. He was afraid to reach under her chin and lift her face to him. He shouldn't have been, but he was. He kept thinking about her eyes when he was lowered into the carbonite pit. He'd never wanted to see an expression that sad on her face again. He promised himself that he would never let it happen. That he would never have to stand helpless and watch the darkness come between them.

"Leia . . ." 

"I have to leave." Her voice was perfectly controlled. "You can manage the rest of the party without me, right?" She was talking to the medals on his chest, not him.

"Sure." His brows knit with concern. He was totally unsure of what to do.

Then she turned and the crowd parted to let her through. She didn't run or push or trip the way Clara had. She made a stately exit, every inch a Princess and Senator. No evidence of his Leia, his brash, daring Leia anywhere to be seen.

There was a murmur of approval in the crowd. People seemed to like her restraint. Han thought it was bunk. The only right reaction would have been Leia punching someone in the jaw. Probably him.

They had been married for fifteen years by then. Fifteen years of political life. So he did what he thought she wanted him to do. He worked the party: got the donations, told the bad jokes, put on the good face, set everyone at ease. He sent the guests home with a scandal to titter about, but he made them pay for it.

On his way home he stopped at a bar. It seemed the best way to pick a fight.

When he stumbled home at some wee hour he found the twins huddled together in his and Leia's bedroom. They were just on the cusp of being teenagers, eleven years old: Jacen had gotten his height, and Jania had gotten her sass, but they were still kids. Skinny and young. They clung to him fiercely as the story of the night tumbled out.

Leia had gotten home and let the babysitter go early. She'd put the kids to bed with extra kisses, then gone to take a bath.

Jania had woken first, washed with cold and terrified.

Jacen met her by the bathroom where they saw the light and the pink water coming out from under the door.

It was locked and they couldn't get in. They pounded on it and called to their mother with a rising panic, but she didn't answer.

Then suddenly Luke was there. He'd been sharp and abrupt and not at all like the smiling uncle who bent spoons to make them laugh.

He tried to kick the door down and then used his lightsaber to burn through it. He'd never turned it on in front of them before. The smell of burning plastic was terrible. He'd blocked their view when it was done.

"Your father will be home soon. You should try and go back to sleep till he gets here." They were eleven. Old enough to be left alone, but wasn't like they ever had been, not before this.  

They'd moved toward their rooms because that's what Luke wanted, but then watched around the corners. Without another word, Uncle Luke had bundled up their mother and carried her off.

Han looked at his kids thinking everything in the world was backwards. He was the unreliable one who ran away from trouble. Leia was the strong one, the rock, loyal and reliable to the end.

Han asked the kids if they were hungry. Then the three of them huddled together, eating toast and cheese in the big bed, falling asleep in the early morning twilight, restless and exhausted.

Han woke with the sun in his eyes and tasks crowding his brain. The kids were still curled up like puppies, so he made his way heavily to the bathroom.

He drained the tub, watching the bloody water swirl like peppermint candy. Then he mopped the floor. There wasn't much to be done about the rubble Luke had left of the door, but he cleared what he could.

Leia had left her perfect white dress hung carefully on the wall.

Han left it there too. It shimmered with the morning light, a billowy cloud of pale poison gas.

About two hours later when Chewie finally came over to watch the kids, Han went to find Luke. And Leia.

Luke was practicing empty handed routines in the yard of the Jedi Temple. Han watched him thinking that the air was too thick today. Such a cliche, but his feet and hands seemed made of lead. Each step he took toward his friend, his brother, was harder and heavier than the last. The effort of it stole all the air from his lungs the words from his mouth. Luke, lost in his exercise, seemed oblivious. Han stood there watching the hypnotic movement, letting the gate hold him up.

"She's alive" Luke said at last, without stopping his drill, answering the question Han hadn't managed to ask.

The words hit like a punch to the gut. That was when Han first felt the anger welling up. The first time he let himself think, that after all they had been through, all they had survived, Leia had tried to kill herself. How could she abandon him like that?


	5. Father Daughter Bonding Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What?" Han said with a full expression of mock horror. "You think she'd just run off and make Luke deal with a death warrant? Not your mom." His voice was low and comforting and he hoped it sounded more like a joke than a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

Jania cracked open the door interrupting his reverie. She'd grown into her feature somewhere in her late teens or early twenties. It hadn't happened the way it did for her brother. Jacen's last growth spurt had been a shock. At 21 his neck had added two inches of thickness in two months. But Jania, well, she 'd always had his nose, and it had always been too big for her face. Until one day Han had looked at her and realized it was fine. She'd settled into her adult features when he wasn't looking.

"Knock, knock," she asked, "anybody home?"

"Over here kiddo." 

She walked into the ante-room and gave him a big smile. "You were great today, Dad."

"Thank you." He gave a little bow.

"I was worried for a while that mom wasn't going to ask you."

"What? You think she'd just run off and make Luke deal with a death warrant? Not your mom." His voice was low and comforting and he hoped it sounded more like a joke than a lie.

Jania gave a little snort. "Jacen would have stepped up to the plate, even if it did conflict with his apprentice's oath. But you don't know the headaches that could have caused. Jedi favoritism, blah, blah, blah. It's better this way. You and I can have some good father daughter bonding time."

Han smiled. Jania had always been the one that shared his sense of humor. 

"Yea, Ladybug, we can talk about why its a bad idea for you to keep working with angry Wookies." 

"I know," She sighed rolling her eyes "its been complete hell for my love life. You know how hard it is to pick up a guy when all your wing women are seven foot tall and snarling. Not. Fun. I could go out in nothing but a smile and every bachelor in this town would just look at my eyes politely."

"Okay, that part doesn't sound so bad." When she was ten, she had begged for flight lessons. He'd sent her to Chewie to learn to build an engine first. In retrospect, that might not have been the best idea. 

Jania smiled innocently. It was a sure sign that she'd won the argument, and that she knew it. 

"Mom left you a bill?" she asked, and for a moment he didn't know what she was talking about.

"You didn't get to introduce it before they cut off your mic."

"Right." C-3PO handed him a tablet screen and he handed it on to Jania. She flipped through it with the familiar skill of a congressional aid, announcing what she found as if nothing in it could surprise him, though they both knew better. 

There was a cover letter with a declaration that Leia was breaking quorum and that Han would stand as her hostage. It had some sharp language about the use of Imperial death threats to preserve apologist tax havens. Worlds grown rich on the suffering of others. Places that didn't want to pay for the refugees their bullets created or the infrastructure their bombs destroyed. All because they were too stubborn to admit the privileges the Emperor had handed them were covered in blood.

"We'll just send that one right off to the the press office," Jania said brightly, highlighting the words and flicking them off the screen.

The bill, when she got to the heart of it made her slow down and grit her teeth. 

"What a total waste of time," she muttered.

"What's wrong with it?" Han asked. 

Jania wasn't someone who wore anger easily. Neither of his kids did. They were like Luke that way. Their parents could bicker the way fish breath water. But as for his kids, well, as a teenager Jania had perfected Luke's art of pouting. That was as close as either of them got. 

"She's conceding, sort of" said Jania, trying to hide the whine in her voice. "She's offering up Alderaan's vote to be put under the stewardship of the Jedi Counsel."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Han asked.

"Well if every refugee colony did it, it would make the Jedi Counsel the largest minority voting block. But it would also end Jedi neutrality until the refugee cultures were returned to independence. It's totally impossible though, no one is going to agree to this. They don't trust Luke and he, well--" she pulled back her words into a pinched expression. 

"Hey, don't talk like that sweetie. Everybody loves your Uncle Luke. He's a pussy cat," she glared at him one eyebrow up, and he stumbled, "with really sharp claws." Han felt betrayed by his metaphor. It hadn't gone where he wanted it to.

"Okay, first off, the only contact most of the Senators have ever had with Jedi was, and is, Darth Vader. That rarely ended well."

"I remember."

"Luke has been the perfect acolyte to the civilian authority, but people know that he's Vader's son, and you know how he is about that. Redemption is a fantastic religious idea. It makes a great way to repatriate storm troopers and hasn't been bad for preventing civil war with the appeasers, but--"

"But he's not invited to the annual Alderaan Ice Cream Social."

"Not once Dad. Not. Once. He will never flat out condemn Anakin Skywalker, or even Darth Vader. You know how many times Mom has asked him."

Han fidgeted. When he was younger it had made perfect sense that it would all come down to his little band of friends. Now that he was older, it seemed ridiculous that galactic politics had to be family politics too.

"She left a letter for Luke." It was the only thing he had read. It was hand written on heavy parchment paper, and the quorum poll had been dull and long. His coat was hanging on the rack and he picked the letter out of its interior pocket showing Jania the envelope.

"Do you know where his office is?" Her voice was lazy, full of round tonged condescension, but she was eyeing the envelope with sharp interest. It was a tactic she'd learned from him and he recognized it.

"I know where his temple is." Han matched her careless tone.

"Let's go see if we can catch him." Jania took his arm with a smile. "He usually tries to get in and out without being noticed, but since he faced down Gree Percival in full laser vision today, there's bound to be a fanboy or two in his office, trying to convince him that they are the secret reincarnation of Ben Kenobi." She had a wicked twinkle in her eye. "That will slow him down."


	6. Flirting is Not a Jedi Mind Trick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know you Luke," Leia replied. "And I knew Darth Vader. I don't _know_ anything else about the Jedi except that there was a war and they all fought, and they all died. You are not going to enlist my babies while they are still _babies._ I was a solider so they would never have to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

There was, in fact, a young man in Luke's office kneeling at his tea table and staring intently at a pebble. Luke was sipping stoically from his round stoneware cup. He looked encouraging and concerned as the young man apologized because it wasn't working. The boy was breaking into a nervous sweat.

Jania paused in the doorway and put her hand up to signal that Han should stop too. She looked over her shoulder and gave him a wink. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

She licked her lips, and then stared at the pebble. It jumped ten inches into the air then started spinning in slow circles. Han gave her a silent thumbs up. She blushed.

Fanboy was ecstatic. He looked up at Luke expectantly, but Luke's attention had snapped to Jania in his doorway. She gave him an innocent little shrug. 

"Hi. Sorry. Hope we aren't interrupting anything." 

Luke hadn't aged as well as his sister. He was mottled and pockmarked with small skin cancers. You could take the boy off Tattoine, but you couldn't take the years of radiation out of his skin. 

His smile, when he let it out though, was still as big and genuine as ever.

"It's fine. I was just explaining the process of becoming a Jedi to Davis here. He's planning on applying next week. Davis, let me introduce you to my niece, Jania Organa Solo, and her father, General Han Organa Solo.

"The Hero of Endor!" Davis was clearly smitten. He didn't seem to know if he should rise or copy Luke's stillness. His body got caught somewhere in between, knees on the ground and butt in the air.

"Davis," Jania said sweetly, leaning forward slightly, "would it be okay if we interrupted your tea? We need to have a little family pow-wow. If you're a Jedi acolyte I'm sure you understand." 

She was positively sugar coated. Han had the urge to throw a blanket over her chest so that Davis would stop looking at it. The kid must have a suicide wish. He was her father. _The General._ He was standing right here.

"He's not an acolyte. He's an applicant." Luke sipped his tea.

"Oh as good as!" Jania gave a quick dismissive gesture. "Everyone who moves the pebble gets in."

The fan boy was starting to drool. His kneeling-but-not-standing position left him perfectly nose to chest.

For a second, Han thought he heard Chewie growling. Then he realized he was making the noise.

Davis swallowed hard. 

"Right, General Solo's daughter." The kid was finally showing a spark of intelligence. "I'll leave." He hurried out of the room, taking his pebble with him.

Jania waved goodbye and then took her father's arm again, leading him to the table. 

"See! What did I promise you? Bonding time."With that she plopped down on one of the floor cushions beside the table. 

Luke put down his cup and closed his eyes with a tired sigh."Jania--" was all he managed to say before she interrupted. 

"Did you see Dad? Wasn't he great!"

"Jania!" Luke barked, giving her an exasperated look.

She squinted her eyes at him. "Flirting is NOT a Jedi mind trick!"

# # # 

ABY 12- ABY 15

Luke had wanted to start training the kids at three or four years old. He'd come over with little games where they had to balance rocks or float scarves through hoops. Han was proud of his super-powered kiddos. Leia, though, had put a hard-stop to the juvenile force games.

"You had a choice. You weren't pushed to take up a light saber and a monk's habit as soon as you learned to poop in the potty! My kids are going to get that chance, too."

Luke tried to argue that they would just experiment on their own. He tried to convince her how dangerous that could be. 

"We survived," was all she said in response.

He kept pressing. She got angrier.

"You are not going to raise them to be killers!" 

"The Jedi aren't killers," Luke pleaded, "you know that."

"I know you, Luke. And I knew Darth Vader. I don't _know_ anything else about the Jedi except that there was a war and they all fought, and they all died. You are not going to enlist my babies while they are still _babies._ I was a solider so they would never have to be."

There was something dangerous in her tone. Luke was the better trained fighter, but Han didn't know what would happen if Leia truly felt he was a danger to the kids. Even Luke seemed wary of the feral glint in her eye. He would never use his full powers against her, and they didn't even know what her full powers were. At least she didn't have a gun in her hand. Han jumped in to try and break the tension.

"Damned straight! These kids aren't fit to be soldiers. Their mom's a politician and me, I'm still a smuggler at heart. Criminality is the only choice. Jacen already knows how to sneak graffiti behind the couch."

Luke had laughed and Leia had relaxed. 

Eventually, brother and sister agreed that Luke could teach the kids what they asked to learn. In return, he promised to wait until they came to him.

# # #

ABY 35

"Jania" Luke said, pouring fresh tea into his cup, "One day flirting isn't going to work. I don't want you to reach for something darker when you get frustrated."

"That's what the Wookies are for!" Jania said brightly.

"You should know by now that you can't lie to me, even with the truth," replied Luke. He looked tired, and Han could barely see the quiver as his jaw tightened. "Chewbacca says that you've asked the clan to make sure you aren't using your powers to accidentally manipulate anyone," Luke continued. "There are better ways to manage your control."

Jania winced. It took Han a minute to wrap his head around the idea that Jania was the danger, and that the Wookies were guarding other people from her. 

"Do you offer music classes yet? Or Jedi botany? I could really use Jedi botany. Kyshaak is still recovering from the Imperial occupation and the reforestation efforts are slow." 

When they were thirteen, Han remembered, Jacen had wanted to spend his summer at the Jedi Temple. Jania had gone to sing to trees with Chewbacca. It had been a lonely season for Han. The kids were still on his side then. He hadn't done anything to loose their allegiance. Without them around, he and Leia had been left avoiding each other and they only thing they had to discuss.

"Those subjects are in the library." Luke replied with a sigh. The argument was starting to have a practiced feel. 

"But do you teach them? Would the library cubes be enough, for," her eyes skitted to Han and away again, "for someone like me?" 

"No," Luke said sadly. 

"Then I'll stay with the Wookies. I'll be a tool for the force to use as it wants rather than a fulcrum trying to move it. Like Mom and Dad." 

Jania smiled at both of them brightly. She had _the smile._ Han knew it was a distraction technique and he didn't really care. A Wookie shield had worked for him, sorta. But then he didn't fight the same darkness that the rest of his family fought. At least not anymore. All he could do was watch as it wrinkled their faces and scarred their skin.

"Sweet, Sweet, child." Luke was closing his eyes and shaking his head as if she were a wayward puppy. "You've already made the pebble float. I don't know how much choice you have."

"There's always a choice." Han rose to his daughter's defense, but the words were brittle in his throat.


	7. Obvious, and Still Utterly Unthinkable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There has always been something wrong." It was obvious, and still utterly unthinkable. "I just didn't know that there was any other way for Leia to be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a transformative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 20

"She's alive." 

The words drove the wind out of Han's gut and left him doubled over. Luke wouldn't even look at him. 

"You don't blame me for this!" Han spat. Unpleasant thoughts about how Luke _moved energy_ with his fists were floating in Han's head. "Don't you dare Blame me for this!"

God he wanted a fight! He'd been getting soft and fat while the years had just made Luke harder, but Han didn't care. Not today. Getting pummeled would just make the outside match the inside. Landing a few blows would feel pretty good too.

"Where have you been?" Luke was pretending he wasn't angry. His sister did that when she was too upset to just break something and get it over with.

"Taking care of my kids." 

"And before that?" 

Han didn't say anything, he just got ready to take the blow. Luke looked at him. Calm and very cold.

"Were you having an affair with that woman?" Luke asked.

So he'd heard. Of course, he'd heard.

"No! Never! One opinionated workaholic is more than enough for me." 

"But?" 

"No 'buts'! Clara kissed me. I had no idea she would do that. And this is not about me! I can't believe that you are trying to lay this on me. I haven't done anything but love Leia."

"But?" Luke took a step closer and folded his hands around the air like he was revving a speeder.

 _"But?"_ the question rung like a bell.

"But I liked being adored," Han said without thinking. 

When he heard the words tumble out of his mouth he marched forward and headed a sharp right jab toward Luke's nose. Luke shifted and the jab whizzed past him without impact. But Han's left cross landed on Luke's rib cage. It rocked the Jedi out of stance, but didn't take him off his feet.

"You wanna get into it farmboy? Let's get into it! I love Leia and maybe that doesn't mean anything to her anymore, or to you, but don't think for a second that you can force me to confess some betrayal that never happened. If she wants a divorce tell her to ask me herself!"

"She didn't attempt suicide because she wants a divorce." Luke sounded honestly confused. 

Han took another swing, which Luke sidestepped smoothly. 

"You and the kids mean everything to Leia," Luke stepped backward, making Han lunge after him.

"Really?" Han found his balance again. "Cause it seems to me that last night was about as massive a brush-off as anyone can give their family." 

Han skipped forward with his hands up, looking to land another jab cross. In a whirl Luke trapped Han's wrist and twisted him into a joint lock. Luke stood upright his arms comfortably in front of him at waist height. Han was bent forward helplessly, his right arm pinched uncomfortably behind his back inside Luke's crossed wrists. 

"Is that why you are here fighting with me rather than at the hospital with her?"

Luke's calm was infuriating.

"No you arrogant little prick!" Han swatted his free arm over his head as he tired to grab Luke's hair or at least lay a good scratch on him. "I'm here to find out why you and your god-damned psychic connection didn't come and warn me there was a problem!" 

Luke dropped him. Han lost his footing without someone to fight against and fell forward onto his knees. 

"I thought we were friends, Luke! Hell, I thought we were brothers. People don't just commit suicide out of the blue, especially people like Leia. Why didn't you come to me as soon as you knew something was wrong!" The words tumbled out, cracking the air like vapor from a wasted fuel head.

Luke closed his eyes as Han's rage washed over him. He didn't look anything like his sister. Except that sometimes he did: a matching quirk of an expression. The way their eyes wrinkled when they smiled. The way both of them hung their heads slightly to the left when they were feeling guilty.

"Han." Luke collapsed on the dirt next to him. "I met Leia the same way you did. On a Death Star prison deck where she had been tortured for who knows how long, and after . . . Alderaan." Luke looked up at the sky searching for how to express what he wanted to say.

They had been such kids then, brash and lucky. Ridiculous.

But not Leia. Leia had been steeped in the careful systems of the underground rebellion. She'd been a member of the senate on a diplomatic transport with a flight plan full of imperial permissions and innocuous destinations. She was supposed to be safe. At that point, she was barely a spy: not yet the Warlord of Hoff or the Engineer of Endor. There was no particular reason to think that she would catch Darth Vader's eye, or end up being the first person not to break under his torture. 

Or there was one, very particular reason. But for all the time they spent together, Vader never made any confession of parental love to Leia. He never asked her to rule the galaxy with him. 

Luke lifted his hang-dog head and looked Han straight in the eye. He looked old. Han felt old looking at him. _Don't say it, __he thought, _this is big enough._ _

"There has always been something wrong." It was obvious and still utterly unthinkable. "I just didn't know that there was any other way for Leia to be."


	8. If It Takes a Martyr, Let It Be Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing you ever had was love, and stupid, blind, bravery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a transformative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

"Uncle Luke," Jania said, moving the topic away from her training, or lack thereof, "Have you seen mother's alternative to Gree Percival's plan?"

"No" said Luke. He placed a small cup in front of her and poured an elegant arc of hot water from a pot with a long spout.

"Isn't it a good thing that I brought you a copy then!" She placed two digital slates on the table and started swiping. While Luke offered Han a cup and hand refused. "I know you'll want to read through this in full later, but the relevant part to discuss right now is here." Jania slid a slate over and pointed to a place on the screen. "She's suggesting that you become the representative of the refugee cultures, or at least of Alderaan."

"Me?" Luke set the pot down. 

"Well the Jedi Counsel." 

"No." Luke frowned.

"That's what I thought," Jania threw back the steaming tea like it was a shot. The heat didn't seem to bother her at all. "We'll go now. Thank you for the tea!" 

She was getting up to leave but Han grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to the table.

"Why not?" Han asked Luke.

"Dad! I'll explain it to you on the way home."

"I don't want you to explain it to me, Ladybug. I want Luke to do it."

"It's too much temptation." Luke was serious, his face dour. 

"What do you mean?" Han asked even though he knew all about the argument. It was older than Jania.

"I have the power to make most people do what I want them to do." The only hint of Luke's discomfort was the way his thumb worried the edge of his tea cup. "The only ethical way to manage that power, is to give up wanting. I can't be the advocate for any group of people. I can't show favoritism." 

Luke took a slow drink of tea, and set it down on the table with a quiet clink. Then, only then, did he meet Han's stare head on. 

"Bullshit." 

It was not the reply Luke was expecting. He tilted his chin they way Leia did, grinding his teeth. Han wondered if Jania knew that she was holding her breath. 

"You're just afraid of commitment." 

"I am very committed to the Jedi Creed." Luke's voice was low and sincere. He didn't hold his breath, but he did regulate the flow in and out. He was making himself still. It was a sign that he was irritated. Knowing that made Han confident. 

Luke wasn't a fresh faced kid, anymore. You couldn't drop-kick him into a whine with half a sarcastic remark. His face was craggier and so was his personality. More mirages to enchant the feeble minded. Worst of all, the idealism at his core was a little more worn and skeptical than it had been. 

Back on Tatooine Luke had lived in a world of light: two suns and endless hope. He'd wanted so badly to run away from that place. When he finally had run, he'd carried all that heat in his skin with him. It had driven him forward into adventure, driven them all forward into a quest for justice that was bigger than they were. Into a myth. 

Now that desert light was cancer eating into his face and hands. All those scars, inside and out. It made Han queasy. Luke was trying so hard to be a Jedi that he was forgetting how to be Luke. He was afraid of his own blasted shadow. Han wanted him to just let the damned whine out! At least it would be honest. Luke could complained that he was too old. That he didn't want to learn how to be the politician. That politics was Leia's heavy lifting, not his. She was the Princess. He was the court magician.

"I saw you write that Jedi Creed," Han said. "I saw you sit in that wreck of a library trying to re-build history until your eyes bled. I watched you try to find ways to argue that Ben Kenobi wasn't a drop-out, and that precious master Yoda was more than a pre-school teacher."

"I've never denied the limitations of my teachers." Luke tucked his hands inside his robes.

"They weren't problems that needed to be fixed. Preschool teachers are necessary. So are drop-outs! The only problem is that you still think it's a problem. That's a limitation in you Luke, not in either of those dead old men." Han was on a roll. "This Jedi Counsel that you have been trying to recreate with such fidelity? They failed! They couldn't save Anakin Skywalker. They couldn't save the Republic. They couldn't even save themselves." He was leaning over the table, snarling while Luke sat calmly. He was mocking Han's fever. Jania looked shocked though. That was a comfort. "Their creed failed. That's the history you and I lived, brother."

Luke smiled when Han finished. With a sigh he looked up at the ceiling. "Its not the second best swordsman that un-arms the master, its the novice with a lucky stroke. Only the one who knows nothing can truly behave unexpectedly."

"What does that mean?" Han asked. It would be too easy to win already. This felt like a trap.

"It means Leia and I can't argue about this anymore. She _agrees_ with me. She understands that I constantly feeling the pull of the dark side. There is no way that I can do this. There is no way that she could have meant for me to do this. I'm not pure enough for political life."

Han's blood boiled. Luke sounded like he believed his own drivel. 

"You pompous, grand standing, hypocritical idiot! You with your self-serving, self-destructive "no attachments" mantra. Everything good you have ever done, _everything,_ has been because of an _attachment!_ To Ben Kenobi. To Leia. To me. To your dreams of Anakin Skywalker. I believed in the Jedi because of you, Luke. Because you were willing to sacrifice yourself. You made _Jedi_ mean the person who walks into the mouth of a Sarlacc so that no one else had to. You might trick yourself into thinking there was destiny and prophecy involved, but I've heard you talking in your sleep, kid, and you never knew if it was going to work until it was all over. The only thing you ever had was love, and stupid, blind, bravery."

Luke closed his eyes. Jania leaned away from the table.

"Don't try feed me crap about how scary powerful you are. You are sitting around humiliating innocent kids who will never have whatever mojo it is that you've got. My friend Luke, my friend who restored the Jedi and ended the evil empire, _he_ had better things to do!"

Luke took a centering breath. "I wasn't the only Jedi you knew. There was Obi-Wan first."

Han refused to be moved. "I seem to remember that he took one for the team, too." 

The room was hot. Suffocating.

"Han," Luke's whole body was stiff. "You don't understand my position now. I can't do this."

"Your position? No I get that. C-3PO and Jania have enlightened me. You're an important man, last of the Jedi, right hand to the powerful, who is going to sacrifice a sixty thousand Alderaan refugees, and who knows how many other cultures, so that he can pout about his daddy issues. But that's okay, cause you won't have any _attachments._ Screw all those souls that might need you to care when no one else seems to."

"I can't be a king." Luke clipped off the words tightly.

"No one's asking you to!" 

Han huffed, frustrated. He wasn't entirely sure, but it seemed like maybe Luke was holding his breath, too. Well, that was hopeful.

"If you think that becoming a Senator is going to make you a king," Han pressed, "you have not been listening to Leia. Jedi mind tricks don't really solve problems, just mask them and let them grow until they come back to bite you harder. I, personally, think Leia will enjoy being a noisy constituent."

"Its not the same for me as for Leia," Luke whined. 

"Like hell it isn't!" _Finally_ , Han thought. _If he's whining we are getting somewhere._

Han waited for Luke argue. It stood there, a big black gulf. There was no way Luke could honestly look at Han and say he was more vulnerable to the dark than Leia. Luke hadn't been the leader of the rebellion. He hadn't been the politician. He wasn't more likely to twist arms, blackmail, or kill to get his way. He hadn't slit his own wrists.

The lightsaber Luke wore fooled people into thinking he was the more dangerous Skywalker twin. Han knew better. Luke knew better. Leia was the only one who doubted it. Her husband wondered in passing how many arguments she'd let Luke win to avoid admitting that. Leia making the space to keep both their ego's whole, even when it put her into the path of a madman's witch hunt. Leia cutting herself into someone smaller, someone _less Leia_ one little compromise at a time.

The air crackled between them. Han had just remembered why he was so mad.

"She could have done it if she'd wanted," Jania said meekly. "They asked her. She's a princess after all. She's _the Princess._ Last in the Organa line." Her hands were folded demurely on the table. Han reached out and covered them with his big calloused paw. Jania was a peacemaker to the end.

Luke watched with a furrowed brow. 

"All I'm saying," Han continued, "is that if you want to avoid becoming Darth Vader, killing your sister instead of standing up for thousands, millions, of voiceless people, is the wrong call. Say its about avoiding attachment as much as you want. I'd say its fear of commitment."

Luke looked at the ceiling. He looked at Han. He looked even longer at Jania. 

_My poor little girl,_ Han thought, _building herself a fortress of Wookies._ She'd learned more than just floating pebbles from her Uncle. Han squeezed her fist again. 

Luke rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

"Tell me, please, that you aren't just repeating some argument Leia made when she wanted to get married."

"Of course not. She used most of these when I didn't want to fly against the first Death Star. Though I did recycle some after she'd turned down my second proposal."

Luke snorted. "I didn't know that she turned you down twice. You spent so much time trying to convince us you didn't really care." 

He was talking to Han, but watching Jania. She'd relaxed, but hadn't pulled her hand away from her father.

"You never really believed me." Han smiled easily.

"No, I did." Luke said, proving he still had surprises. "I thought you were exactly what you said you were for a lot longer than I should have."

Now it was Han's turn to furrow his brow.

"Jania," Luke turned away from Han's stare. "Leave the proposals here and I'll look over them. If they don't need any revisions, I'll introduce them tomorrow. Can you find a reliable second?"

Surprise made her stumble. "Ya, yes." 

"Good." Luke sighed and his body truly relaxed. He cocked his head and smiled at Han. 

"I'm glad you're around to keep me from getting too full of myself, but you know that I would never, ever, have hurt Leia."

Han found himself grimacing; a flinch in his body pulling away from Luke's smile. It should have reassured him more to see that open sincerity. 

"That's not what 3PO thinks," was all he managed to say.

"C-3PO can have some strange ideas. He told me the other day, out of the blue, that R2 would burn out his own motherboard before he would fly on Gree Percival's order. " 

Luke sounded amused, but Han doubted he actually was. Luke dismissed C-3PO all the time, but if R2D2 had turned on him . . . Well, Luke took that little droid seriously. He'd probably been thinking really hard about his choices lately. It wasn't a good omen that he didn't mention talking directly to R2 .

"Yeah, about that," Han said, reaching into his vest and pulling out the envelope Leia had addressed to Luke. When the parchment hit the table everyone could see that one side was neatly sliced open.

"I don't think I was supposed to read it." 

"And?" Luke pulled the letter from the envelope.

Han shrugged. "She says she forgives you in advance, blah, blah, blah, rule of law, blah, blah, blah, protect the republic and the Jedi. The real kicker is near the end. How does she say it, its so perfectly Leia," He closed his eyes thinking, "If it takes a martyr, let it be me. Don't get any innocent blood on your hands, not when I'm here instead. I think she even signed it with love."

The room was cold, colder even than when Han first read the words.


	9. War Buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wept for the blood in the bathroom, and the whispers in the dark, and for all those spotless white dresses that had finally smothered his firebrand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 0-5

Once upon a time, in the way back when, Han and Luke could sit in a bar laughing and tease Leia about the off-handed, half-formed comments she made about being a murderer. 

Once upon a time, it had been the craziest off-color joke made when they drank to a victory. Back when they spent days in the tight berths of the Millennium Falcon, so close they could smell each other's dreams. 

Han could still viscerally remember the feel of the tiny top bunk squeezing his shoulders while Luke's feet pounded on a floor that was inches above his nose. The kid had exorcised his grief by practicing endless blind-folded drills with the laser-ball. 

Leia took the lower bunk. He remembered that, too. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up the whole time she was beneath him. 

She confessed things in those first days, things that she would never say out loud again. Things she could only say to his back because he was a random mercenary who was going to disappear when he was paid. And he got it. He understood her in a way that seemed mythical now, as legendary as Luke blowing up the death star with a single shot.

He got that if he offered her any sympathy, any pity, any acknowledgement of the horror, the pure horror, of what she faced, she would fade under the weight of it. She needed something else. She was burning to fight, and he stepped in as her sparring partner. He forced her to defend the rebellion until she believed her own arguments again. Until she really felt that loosing Alderran could be worth something.

She'd needed a war buddy to temper her squishy, swallowing, survivor's guilt. To turn it into the hard sharp will to win. It became more than vengeance, though that fire had flickered dangerously in her dark berth, too. No, his Leia, she found a slow burn of righteousness. She found it in herself. Then she found it in him. 

It was too much. An ocean of space between Alderaan, and her future leading the rebellion. Too much behind her and too much ahead. She could have drowned then, but she didn't. She floated. And Han floated with her. 

Then, later, when their life was good. Peace and kids and even a small community of her people resurrected, she had just, sunk. He did know how to pull her up again.

# # #

ABY 20-23

They couldn't put it back together properly after she came home from the hospital. They didn't talk about the bandages on her wrist. Or the fight. Or anything and everything that came before.

He'd wanted to catch her, to do everything she had done for him and the family over the years. To be her war buddy. He'd always thought he could fight anything, as long as he was fighting with her. 

God, he wanted to fight. 

He wanted to feel her strong and magnificent dishing it out just like she always had. He wanted to take his hits. He wanted to hold her after, to hear her whisper secrets in the dark. He wanted to make his own confessions, too. They could cry together like the old veterans they were, awkward in this new virgin territory, but still a team. Still Han and Leia: the love story.

None of that had happened though. 

She had been so completely self-contained, and at the same time so utterly absent. She didn't cry. She didn't confess. She didn't even break any dishes. When he tried to provoke her, she didn't fight. She just demurred and he didn't know what to do with this strange retreating creature that had once been his wife.

She spent a lot of time with Luke. As far as Han could tell, her brother just made her worse. They sat and meditated and did breathing exercises. He couldn't even get out the damned laser-ball for her.

She picked up all the old pieces of her life. She did. And everyone seemed to think that was a really good thing. 

Han felt like a fool trying to explain why they were so completely, idiotically wrong. He didn't even know who to explain it to. 

She was more protocol droid than 3PO. That bucket of bolts at least reported the doings of the day with enthusiasm. Leia just listened. _Mildly._ She didn't get excited about her wins. She didn't complain about her losses. 

Chewie thought he was overreacting. Everyone seemed to think he was nuts. They all thought she was better than she had been in years. 

"More relaxed than I've ever seen her," they said. Idiots.

The first time he caught her smiling, really smiling, he hadn't been a part of it at all. 

Jacen was a tall 14 and trying to teach Jania and Leia a routine he'd learned from Luke. It was hot and they were all breathless and sweaty from the workout. The kids were joking and bickering as if they were alone, and she was on the side-lines smiling. He felt utterly useless. He wasn't who she needed anymore.

He spent the two weeks after fixing something on the Falcon that had never been broken. 

He'd slipped into the gambling sideways and slowly. Even he couldn't spend all his time in the dry dock. Chewie complained like mad; said he was hurting the ship far more than he was helping her. Once the fuzzball even threatened to change the locks on him.

Every now and then some wise guy would catch him drinking after he'd mangled another part of his old battleship, and ask if he was looking for a big score. Maybe a hero offering him a princess? He'd laugh heartily and take those romantic chumps for everything they had. He was accused of cheating more than once, but General Han Solo had powerful friends. Plus, word on the street was that he shot first.

Leia admonished him mildly, far too mildly. He knew the trouble he was causing her. It just drove him deeper into the scene. He found politics had given him a lot of insight into how gangsters really operated. At least it distracted him from the fact she just didn't seem to care anymore. 

Seeing her turn away when he stumbled home, as if she couldn't even be bothered, that stung him more deeply than any insult. The more she ignored, the worse it hurt, and the worse he behaved.

He had the chance for other women: weepy women, wobbly women, and occasionally even sassy women. Some who had heard about him, some who hadn't. He kept them at arms length. . . until he didn't. It was a huge risk, but he was desperate. It started with just the sloppy kisses on his collars and perfumes left on his shirts. He had whole speeches about fidelity drafted in his head, but Leia just ignored all the evidence he planted. 

She'd said more about the grass stains he'd get on his cuffs when the kids were little. 

Finally, he brought someone home. He was very drunk and he didn't quite remember the details of the evening. It felt like a bizarre nightmare, something he was supposed to enjoy, but didn't. 

They groped and giggled in the living room till Leia walked in and turned on the light. 

She'd sent the girl home coldly and without ceremony. He watched bracing himself for her rage, feeling relieved.

When she looked at him and he could see everything she wanted to say hiding in the little red splotches of her skin.

"I know what your doing." She was masked by the Jedi calm Luke had taught her. "You should be ashamed of yourself for bringing that poor girl into this."

"And what exactly is this?" 

He was so ready for this fight, so ready for the string of accusations. She would list all his crimes. All the way back to Clara. All the way back to those moments when her love hadn't been enough for him and he'd basked in another woman's adoration. 

He had his trump card if he needed it. Because his love hadn't been enough for her either. He'd let someone kiss him when he shouldn't have. She'd tried to kill herself. There was no way those evened out.

"I'm not going to fight with you." Then she'd turned to leave the room, and without quite knowing what he was doing he had crossed the room and grabbed her.

"You are not walking away from me again, you ice queen!" He was shaking with anger. "We are going to have this out!"

She looked up at him crying and terrified.

"Oh, God. No. Don't you turn on me, too."

He pushed himself away from her. At least he tried to. He only got a step or two back while she fell against the wall and crumpled. He put his hands to his head sick with the vertigo. She was so afraid. She was afraid of him. 

Before he could clear his head he was falling. The center of his chest collapsed where he had been hit, and the floor rose to meet him with a hard, heavy thump. 

Jacen had come at him in a fury of teenage arms and legs. Plowing shoulder first into his sternum and knocking the wind out of him. 

The kid scrambled onto his chest once he was down and landed a hard blow across his nose before pinning his shoulders to the floor. He felt the blood trickling out of his nose. Jacen had given Han one other bloody nose. When the boy was an over-eager toddler he'd thrown himself into a hug head first. This was different.

Leia was screaming their names but Jania held her back. She'd just gotten taller than her mother. She was making a series of sweet hushing sounds, but there was a hard cold look on her face scarier than Jacen's hot anger or flying limbs.

"All we need now is Luke and it will be a real family mixer," Han thought, or maybe he said it out loud. 

Every part of his head hurt. He thought his nose might be broken. Pain was supposed to sober you up. In reality, the pain was just more confusing; a cloud of hurt that came from everywhere at once.

He heard Jania and Leia arguing. He concentrated on that.

"I'm going to call Uncle Luke." 

"No! He'll overreact" 

"It's not safe to have him here. Not like this!" There was a push in Jania's words. They could all do that. All the Skywalkers. He didn't notice when he was sober. 

"Your father is not dangerous," Leia pushed back. 

"My father has become and unrecognizable drunk."

Jania could be brutally honest. Han loved that about her.

"That's not his fault." Leia's voice cracked a little.

"Really?" Jania asked, pressing her advantage, "Whose fault is it then? He brought home a stranger and then tossed you against the wall!"

"It's mine. It's my fault." 

"Mom," said Jania, sounding suddenly adult. "You can't beat yourself up forever. That's exactly what made you break down in the first place. You deserve better. You deserve to be happy. All you and Dad do these days is make each other miserable."

And there it was, out of the mouths of babes. He was making Leia miserable. It was all his fault. She might deserve to be happy, but he didn't. He closed his eyes because the light was shattering. It was like looking at the world through a glass of water, everything disconnected and in the wrong place.

"No sweetie," Leia's voice was tight and dry. "You've got it all backwards. He saved me. You couldn't know what it was like, but during the war, he saved me. And then he just kept on saving me when you were little, and I threw it all back in his face." 

He could see what her face looked like, even with his eyes closed. She was using that mom voice, that _because I said so_ voice. She used it to convince people she was completely right and completely reasonable. He was floating in it, her will. How strange that she still believed him a hero.

"I'm the one that's broken. I was an angry shrew. I understand why he needs to test that, but in time he'll understand that the old Leia is never coming back." 

She sounded so calm, so controlled, so certain she was doing the right thing. 

His skin shredded like tinfoil wrapping.

"I miss the old Leia," he said it aloud, or maybe he just thought it. He wept on the floor of his living room. He wept for the blood in the bathroom, and the whispers in the dark, and for all those spotless white dresses that had finally smothered his firebrand. "I miss _my_ Leia. The one who saved me."

The rest of the night was a blur. At some point Jacen made coffee. 

When Luke finally showed up at the door, pulled by his "attachments," it was Jania that turned him away.


	10. Any chance that type of "nothing" might happen again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FYI, this chapter contains smut.

Six months ABY

All his dreams grew more intense after the battle of Yavin. They left him as exhausted as real life. He'd spend the night fixing power couplings and wake up to realize that the work wasn't actually done. They spent the month after their victory on a liberty cruiser, fleeing aimlessly into the black. But his brain wouldn't let him rest.

Han had been paid, sort of. They gave him what they thought he deserved. Then he gathered the rest of what he felt owed in spare parts. Chewie had hopped on a departing freighter and was spending the next six months on Kyshaak. He’d catch up when they settled on whatever new base they were going to. For now though, Han was bunking down alone in the Falcon. The cruiser's quarters were shit.

He wore the minimum he could. He didn’t have many clothes. The few owned didn’t need grease stains and welding burns. Also, it was hot. 

He dreamt about Leia more often than he would admit. Lucid dreams where he wasn’t sure if he was asleep, or where he just plain thought he was awake. He’d follow her down a hallway; constantly losing ground while random pilots got in his way. In the best version of the dream, she was chasing him. He always let her catch up. She'd tease him because he was naked on the flight deck, but he didn't care. When that happened in his mind, she touched him, sliding her hands across his belly. She’d stroke his cock with tiny fluttering touches.

Sometimes the dream would let him finish, rolling her body on top of him, hot to the touch. She was hot everywhere, a miasma of Leia. He’d orgasm and wake up pooled in sweat on his sheets. The rest of the time he’d wake up too early, and then have to breath through the thoughts in his head, working his forearm and fist until they cramped.

It became almost familiar. 

He always assumed, later, that the dreams were why he was so calm when she actually showed up. Leia in his bunk, her robe dropped on the floor, and nothing underneath it. He stayed calm, even as his cock throbbed and thumped against his belly.

Leia-that-wasn't-a-dream wasted no time climbing on top of him. She was small and weighed almost nothing. He wrapped his hand around her hips and she pulled them off with a disappointed sigh, sliding her fingers through his instead. He didn’t resist as she pushed his arms down and folded them up to his chest. She leaned heavily onto him and lowered her hips, wet and trembling to envelope his groin. He moaned slightly and arched his back as she started to grind.

The room was near perfect black. There were a few blinking electrical devices, but not enough to define the shadows. His skin was slick with sweat. His nose full of musk. Fire tickled up and down his spine as she moved.

He tried to keep his breathing smooth as she pumped and grunted. She was turned inward, paying only minimal attention to him. Her eyes closed, her mouth pouted and panting. Small groans escaped her throat, but they were hard to hear over his own pounding heart. He floated in the sensation. This might as well be a dream.

She rocked on top of him, working herself up, going faster and deeper while he just held on. As she reached her climax, she pulled against his arms and he tensed his shoulders in to give matching resistance. She was nearly silent, but he moaned. His abs pulling in and his chest and hips bucking up at the rhythmic squeeze and pull of her cunt massaging his cock. Her hands locked in his.

Her breath got deeper and more regular. She sighed through the last of her shudders and started to pull away, but he wasn’t done yet.

His hands climbed her arms and he pulled her forward. She collapsed, off-balance, landing chest to chest with him. He quickly wrapped an arm around her upper back, enjoying the feel of her hard nipples pressed against him.

“Greedy much?”

He could hear the smile in her smugness.

“Yes,” he growled.

“Too bad.” She lifted her hips off him with a wet pop. He bit his lip as the cool air rushed over the slick surface of his groin. He wrapped a hand around his cock to defend it as she tried to wriggle away. He had to sit up to try and keep a hold of her.

He could feel the heat steaming off her. She smelled like vanilla. His mouth was close to her neck and Han felt her pulse thrumming against his lips. He kissed from the pulse point down to her collar bone. She shivered and pet the curve of his jaw with her free hand. Leia kissed the space right in front of his ear with a sigh.

“I really have to go, but thank you, it’s been lovely.” 

He grabbed her wrist. 

It was too dark to see her expression, but based on how her hips popped-contraposto against his lap, he was certain she had cocked her head to the side, surprised at his resistance. 

He he had both of her wrists. One in each hand. So he folded her hands behind her back, bringing his thumbs together just above her tail bone. She didn’t resist him, but there was tension in every inch of her frame. She was holding her back perfectly straight, up on her knees, chest out, head high and proud. He swallowed, feeling the weight of her focused attention.

“You’re tired. You need to go back to sleep.” There was a coaxing pull in her voice.

“I am asleep,” he replied. 

Her chest rose and fell close to his face as she pulled against him weakly. He nuzzled at the edge of her breast, kissing the inside rise until he found the warm point of her nipple. He pulled it into his puckered mouth and swirled his tongue around the pebbled skin of her areola. She moaned and arched, letting her head fall back. He could feel her kneeling thighs pressing into either side of his waist. 

Her hands were small, it was easy to wrap them both up in one fist. Her braid slapped at his knuckles, so he wrapped that into his fist as well. When he had her firmly in his grip, Han pulled against the small of her back, using his fist and her bent arms to support and guide her breasts up to him. He moved his free hand between her thighs, feeling the damp throb of her crotch. He slipped a pair of fingers inside her easily and grunted in satisfaction when she gasped slightly and arched backward. 

He still had one of her breasts in his mouth, but only barely. Her stretch had pulled out all but the nipple, he rolled it gently between his teeth. Her breath caught in her throat and she clamped down around his fingers. He grinned wolfishly, dropped the first nipple, and with only the slightest of leverage, tilted her other breast toward his mouth. 

It only took a few more moments before she rolled her head forward with a gasp panting into his ear. He got a little distracted as she sucked on his earlobe, so Leia was able to work one hand free and grab his hair with more strength than he expected. She worked her other hand free when she crashed her mouth onto his with a demanding kiss.

With her arms wrapped around his neck, and her thighs squeezing around his hips, he flipped them over. He used his weight and size to pin her to the bed while she scratched and grabbed at his neck and shoulders. Leia's small body writhed under him. Her hips thrust up to meet him, and Han slipped a hand under her ass pulling her into place. Leia was tight and tiny. As he pressed into her, he had to hunch his back to keep his mouth near her hairline. 

“Don’t hold back,” she said. “You can’t break me.”

She was wrapped around him so tightly that she came off the bed when he put his weight on his arms to start thrusting. Despite Han’s best efforts, he couldn’t get a solid rhythm and growls of agitation grew in his chest and throat. 

He lay back down, pressing her into the bed, and unwound Leia's arms from around his neck. Han pinned her hands above her head with his left hand. His weight on his palm, pushing her wrists into the bed padding. His other hand held her hip bone as he moved, sliding in and out with a slow and steady control. She writhed and bucked against him, demanding and eager. Her chest rose toward him with each moan. He grinned. 

“Say please, your worship.” He slowed the speed of his stroke. She glared at him and worked to free her hands. He laughed lightly and kissed her. It was a soft kiss. A very particular demand. A challenge just for her. Leia pulled at his lower lip, devouring his mouth, and drawing out his tongue in a way that left him vulnerable and short of breath. 

She snarled in protest when he stilled. He was throbbing inside her, and on the edge of orgasm, but wasn’t ready to let go. Han held her hips still with his own, leaning into the ache. The discomfort lowered the volume on his orgasm. He put his elbows out and his forearms angled in so that he could keep her arms trapped while burying his hand in her hair. 

Leia was at his mercy and he wanted to savor the moment. Memorize all the ways her body pressed into his. He wanted to kiss her slowly. He wanted to feel her relax and give beneath him. 

He pressed his lips to her temple and kissed down her jaw line. Then he did the other side of her face. He kissed her mouth softly, barely touching her lips. Her nostrils flared as she tried, and failed, to buck her hips against him, to lift his weight while flat on her back. She couldn’t move him, but Han had to take an extra set of deep breaths as the walls of her cunt flexed and massaged him through her efforts.

“Did you forget what you were doing fly-boy?”

“I’m just thinking about keeping you here forever. I think this might be the best wet dream I’ve ever had.” Han kissed her again. He was sure her mouth was trying to twitch into a smile, even as she rolled her eyes.

“Eh, I’d give it a 6 out of 10.”

“You realize I’ve still got you pinned,” Han shifted his weight slightly and adjusted his grip. He held her with just his left hand and pulled his right down the inside of her arm and across her breast. He kept his face close to hers so he could hear her breath stutter. “I’ve got plans. Ideas.” 

He rolled her nipple between his fingers lightly. She moaned into his mouth. He kissed her again and she yielded, her mouth opening to his exploration. Her pussy responded too, he could feel it around his erection still, hot and wet. His hips started moving again while he kissed her and played with her breasts. It wasn’t long before he had to sit up and pull out to keep from coming. 

Leia rose up on her elbows, disappointed. He felt possessive and lecherous. A flutter of pride running through him. 6 out of 10 indeed.

“Roll over,” Han whispered, and she did.

He stalked her, like a cat, holding himself just a few inches above her body while he took in the curve of her back. He pulled his fingers through the hairs that had worked out of her braid and were scattered across her shoulder blades. She gasped and moaned, grabbing the bed sheets into fists and squeezing her eyes shut. He took that as a good sign.

He kept tracing the curves of her back, gatherings loose hairs, and she kept moaning. When he’d gathered all her hair and could lift it from her neck, he started kissing down her spine, from the very top to the very bottom. She shuddered beneath him, breathing hard and trembling as he palmed her ass. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he gave it a sharp slap.

“Too much?” He kneaded her bottom as she blinked away her surprise. “Something to play with later then." 

“Don’t be so cocky.”

“Sweetheart,” he kissed at her shoulder and positioning his hips against her again, “I’m just made that way.” It felt good to slide his hands down the sides of her body and slip his palms under her hips. 

It took almost no strength to sit up onto his knees and then pop her up towards him. It was delightful seeing Leia on all fours beneath him. Her beautiful back arched. Her ass high and tight. He slid his fingers across her cunt and she ground back against his hand, pressing her face and chest into the bed. It was gorgeous how her breasts splayed out the side.

He grabbed her hips and thrust. Her breath caught and she whimpered at having him suddenly inside her again. The sound only fed his lust. 

“Say please, Princess,” he reminded her. Pulling slowly all the way out and sliding slowly all the way back into her. Smirking to himself as she groaned. 

“Please. Please Han. Fuck me.”

“Now was that so hard?” He drove into her, letting himself go faster and harder. “Put your hands between your legs. Play with yourself.” He was getting closer.

She did as she was told and he steadied his rhythm and settled into a slower pace than his body wanted. He could feel the muscles in her ass tensing against his thighs as she touched herself, feel the whisper of her fingers against his balls. Then, perfectly, she started to squeeze down on him, tightening and flexing on the inside. It felt like every inch of her cunt was trying to pull him in deeper.

He abandoned all attempts at managing his control, bucking against her, curling his fingers deep into her hips. He stuttered and roared toward his climax.

The pulse of his ejaculation lingered. He was still buried inside her. Every slight shift she made pulled another throb from him. She made a gentle effort to pull away, and he locked an arm around her waist, holding her in place even as he collapsed onto her back. He kissed at her shoulders. 

“I am never letting you go,” he said. 

“You don’t have much choice,” she replied. 

He was getting soft quickly and it wasn’t long before he slipped out of her. She straightened a knee and rolled them to the side easily. She’d been supporting more of his weight than he'd realized. A vague worry washed over him that he’d hurt her.

He kept hold of her middle, sliding one arm under her head and using the other to pull her against him, like a sealed airlock. It was still the middle of the night. He was tired and sleep was overtaking him.

“You’ll be here when I wake up right? You’ll stay?”

“No promises,” she replied, but she didn’t pull away from him, just lifted her hair up let it cascaded in front of her body like a blanket.

He locked his arms around her and fell asleep.

# # #

He woke up alone, hard again, and pooled in sweat on his sheets. Nothing looked different. There wasn’t a sign of her anywhere. Not even a hair on his pillow. He was sure that the night before hadn’t been a dream, but it didn’t feel real either. 

He showered, got dressed, and headed to the cruiser's main mess. Normally he’d just have caf in the Falcon and work while the hanger was clear. Today he wanted to see her, and he was nervous as fuck about it: heart racing, palms sweaty. 

He saw her almost instantly. A smile filled his face and his pace quickened. 

He waived a hand to flag her down. “Leia!” 

She saw him coming and frowned. He slowed his stride, trying to play it cool but not feeling very smooth. He wanted to grab her and kiss her right there in the hallway, but she’d frowned at him. So he didn’t know what to do.

“You don’t usually come to breakfast, Captain." Leia was keeping a solid three feet between them. 

“Well, I got quite a work out last night. Builds up a man’s appetite.”

“Really?” She was dripping with sarcasm. “Chewbacca back then? Or did you con one of the new recruits into your bed?”

Han was taken aback. He didn’t know how to respond to her flat out denial. He was trying to put something together; something sharp enough to call her out, but not so sharp that it actually offended her. He didn't want her to start avoiding him. He could feel it, the perfect retort, right at his fingertips, as if the words were just waiting to be plucked out of the air like fireflies.

“Look, Leia--” Han started, but then she smiled a bright wide smile and he forgot what he was saying.

“Luke!” she called over Han's shoulder, “You are just in time to rescue me. Again.”

Luke sprinted up, gave her a bear hug and a kiss on the cheek. She kissed his cheek in return.

Han felt the heat rushing to his face. He didn’t know if he was angry, embarrassed, or just blindingly jealous. His stomach was tied up in knots.

“You okay, Han?” Luke asked looking at him skeptically. “You don’t usually come to breakfast.”

“Didn’t have any caf left in the Falcon. And, I’m going to need an extra dose this morning.”

“Oh.” Luke's brow furrowed. “Trouble sleeping?” 

“You could say that.” The farm-boy was fishing. The pirate wasn't taking the bait.

Leia was gone, into the mess hall and sitting at a table with a ration of porridge, while Han and Luke stood awkardly. She looked smug. It drove Han crazy. He poured himself a cup of caf and just watched the steam.

Han hadn’t had a wet dream that graphic since, well, never. Why was Leia pretending last night hadn’t happened? He was going to find out. By the time he’d settled his resolve, Luke was already sitting next to her. So Han sat across the table from both of them. He didn't know what to expect.

“Leia and I have been having bad dreams,” Luke offered as soon at Han sat down. “What about you? Is that what kept you up last night?”

Han choked a little at the question.

“No. Indigestion.” That was true enough, at least right now.

Luke waived a spoonful of porridge at him. “What happened to that smuggler’s iron stomach? _'I’m Han Solo, I can eat anything. Don’t complain kid, I’ve survived on worse.'_ ” Luke mocked him with a smile.

Leia gave Luke a playful smirk and a push with her elbow.“Cut that out.” 

“Hey, he totally deserved that!”

“Of course he did,” Leia agreed “but can’t you tell that it’s not the food? He misses Chewie and he’s too macho to admit it. Big Boy can’t sleep without his teddy bear.” Her eyes were twinkling.

Han found himself glaring at her, the retorts forming in his head, then she winked at him. He was certain she winked. He was sure. He was.

Han glanced over at Luke to see if he’d seen it too, but the kid was staring with a him with furrowed brow and lips pressed together. It was the same look Luke got when he was fixing the wiring on his x-wing.

“Great, just great,” Han said to Leia. “Now you’ve got him worried about me. I won’t get a private shower for the next week.”

She shrugged and smiled a big open face smile. He rolled his eyes at her. She tittered and tried to hide the giggle by wiping her mouth.

Han leaned in, intrigued. Almost a year since he’d first laid eyes on her and this was the first time he'd heard her laugh. 

“Are you giggling at me? Do you find it funny that you’ve just saddled me with this rookie?”

She snorted again. “Yea, I guess a Wookie for a rookie isn't a fair trade.” The joke was terrible but she was smiling and looked on the edge of a full-throated laugh.

“Was that supposed to be a joke?” Luke asked. His brow was still furrowed. Earnest was Luke’s primary mode of being.

Leia disintegrated. She brought both hand up to cover her face, turning red. Luke glanced questioningly at Han, who just shrugged, equally confused.

Leia took a few deep breaths and composed herself. She was still smiling when she looked up at Han. He couldn’t help it, he smiled back. Leaning forward and sipping his caf, he raised an eyebrow at her. God damn it, she blushed. She looked away, and tried to hide it behind her own cup of caf, but he saw it.

“What’s going on with you two?” Luke asked. “Did someone spike the coffee again?”

“I wish,” replied Han.

Leia's expression settled into a look that was smug and slightly judgmental. Han recognized suddenly as a thick mask of confidence. A performance she gave so often it had taken on its own reality. She reached up with both hands to smooth her hair. The braid was still flat and tight, but patting down her hair was a nervous habit. So she was nervous. Well, then. When Leia lifted her arms up, her sleeves pulled back, revealing the skin underneath.

Luke snatched at her hand. “Hey, what happened to your wrists?” 

“Nothing,” Leia tried to shake him off, but she was caught. Luke was already pulling up her sleeve to get a better look.

A wave of raw jealousy sliced through Han. Leia would slap him for showing that kind of protective familiarity. Luke got to hug her, and kiss her cheek, and sit next to her at the breakfast table, and now hold her hand. While for him it was three feet of space and stonewalling.

“These bruises look like fingerprints. How’d you get them?”

Han’s heart flipped and blood rushed to his ears. Someone else might have described the next sensation as butterflies in their stomach; to him it felt like spiders scurrying from the back of his knees up to the middle of his back, and all through his nether regions.

He tried not to stare at her open mouthed. He tried to keep his mouth closed. She didn’t look at him.

“I don’t know,” Leia said. Han thought she sounded flustered. Maybe. Just a little bit.

“You’re lying.” Luke was shocked. “You're lying to me. I can tell.”

Leia gave a little gasp as something electric and invisible passed between them. A new wave of jealousy washed through Han.

Luke glanced up at him and then quickly back to Leia. The boy's open sunny face was getting clouded.

“Leia, if someone hurt you--” Leia snatched her hand back before Luke finished. Though, from the look on Luke's face, he might not have been able to finish the thought at all.

She gathered up her dishes. “It's not like that.” 

Luke wasn’t reassured by her answer. “Leia, those bruises--”

“Are none of your business!” She stood abruptly and walked away.

Luke was standing instantly, ready to follow her. Han discovered he was too.

“Leave me alone! Both of you!”

Han put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. She didn’t want to be followed. They wouldn't follow her.

“Han,” Luke said, spinning on him “I can feel you're as upset as I am. We have to find out what’s going on!”

“Yea. I would really like to know what’s going on.”

# # # 

For the next three days he tried not to stare at her. Then he stared at her, and went to bed early.

He found himself in places he knew she’d be. He kept thinking there would be a chance to talk, but Luke was always there first. He practically slept on Leia's doorstep. He glared at everyone that approached her. It was annoying and frustrating and made Han wonder if he’d already been replaced. Then again, what was his place?

For the three days after that, he stayed up late working on the Millennium Falcon, and trying to think about anything else. Secretly, he expected her to find him, to pop out of the shadows with and explanation. She didn't. Chewie got back and then the Falcon was too crowded for him. That’s why, another week out, he was wandering the halls and ended up commandeered by Luke. 

“I’ve got scout duty. They’ve settled on a new base and I’ve got to make sure that the quadrant is free of imperials. Leia still hasn’t told me who put those bruises on her.” Luke gritted his teeth. “I’m gonna hurt him, Han. When I find out who did it. I don’t think I can stop myself. Promise you’ll keep an eye on her, for me, I don’t know who else to trust.”

“Sure kid,” Han replied. 

Less than an hour later he was at her door. He knocked. She didn’t answer, so he peeked. Leia was at a desk with a single lamp reviewing documents and making notes. She rubbed her neck and stretched. He watched her body curve, silhouetted in the dim light. 

“Leia?” He slipped inside the door. She started, surprised, and then recognized him with a flinch.

“Get out of here, Solo,” she said with a heavy sigh 

“I just want to talk.”

“Well, I don’t.” 

“I’m sorry, for those bruises on your wrists--” 

“What part of _I don’t want to talk_ is too complex for you?”

“I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen.” 

She closed her eyes, sighed, and then gave him a good long look. He scuffed his boots against the floor, feeling exposed. He waited for what felt like an eternity.

“Nothing happened, Captain Solo.” She turned away from him and back to her work.

Han felt unsteady on his feet. Her room was tiny. If he leaned in slightly, he could have reached across the space and touched her back. He could have gathered up her hair, and traced the curve of her spine with his fingers. Her bed was only two steps from the door. He wanted to sit, but he wasn’t sure he’d make it before his knees buckled. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rejected by a woman. It shouldn't feel like this.

“So that's it then?” 

“That’s it.” She looked at her papers and not at him.

His mouth was dry.

“Any chance that kind of nothing might happen again?” He was casual. Definitely casual. The crack in his voice wasn't noticeable at all. 

Leia turned halfway around in her chair, which was as far as she could go in the cramped space. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath.

Damn. He loved tough women.

Double damn. She looked nervous.

The pause was excruciating. He was suddenly certain that she wanted him, too. There was a bright desire in her eyes that made them almost glow. If she wasn't so proud she might have jumped him right then and there. His cock strained against the fabric of his pants, ignoring the general order he’d given his body to stay still. Waiting was part of this thing they were starting. His Princess was threading her way to an enthusiastic yes. He didn’t want to scare her away from her desire. She had enough of her own resistance.

“No promises,” she smirked, and then turned away from him again. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.


	11. One Pushy Bunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han wasn't lobbying anyone. That wasn't his maze to run. He just had to find Leia. She said she'd come home to pack. He was looking for clues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

About two weeks after he'd been declared Alderaan's official hostage, Han spent his days examining Leia's closet. That's where Jacen found him.

Luke had summoned Jacen back when the real lobbying started. Being a hostage left Han with surprising little to do. Occasionally, Jania told him to show up somewhere and he showed up. But he didn't have a talent for diplomacy. Unless the diplomats needed someone pissed off. 

It was Luke who had to meet and greet, smile and convince the cultures brought near extinction by Darth Vader, that he, Luke, was the man to protect them. Jacen, like all the acolytes, contributed to the effort. Luke needed their help to thread his way out of his hermitage. 

Han wasn't lobbying anyone. That wasn't his maze to run. He just had to find Leia. She said she'd come home to pack. He was looking for clues about where she'd gone in what she'd taken.

"Jania says you pulled a real head trip on Uncle Luke." Jacen leaned casually against the doorpost. 

"Wasn't that hard. The bigger his opinion of himself gets, the easier it is to pop." 

Jacen laughed. "Promise you'll always keep me humble, too." 

"As long as I can." 

Jacen was handsome. He had swagger, too. That was his Solo half. The Skywalker side was where he got the impulse to follow the strictest, most self-depriving code of conduct around. 

Things were tense between them, had been for years. Han knew it was his fault. Still, it didn't help that Jacen had come back without his mother. 

"You know Luke has a theory about you." Jacen walked over and peered into the closet too.

"Does he? Is it about my impossible good looks?" 

"A little more complex than that." Jacen smirked. "He thinks the force can have a role in friendships, in who we're drawn too."

"Do I look like I need to be insulted right now? You guys are the funky mojo users. I don't need it," Han pressed a hand to his heart. "I have my charming personality."

Jacen snorted. "I think that's kind of the idea, Dad. You're this rock right in the middle of the whirlpool." He took a breath and looked up at the ceiling. "Do you remember when I was seven and we went out to buy Jania a birthday present. The 4th BattleWave fire truck was out, and I really, really wanted it, but you kept saying no, then out of nowhere the shopkeeper just offered to give it to me?"

"Well, back then, you had a charming personality, too."

"No, I didn't." Jacen rubbed his forehead. "I was a little kid with powers he didn't understand bending the will of the people around me." 

Han shifted on his feet. They were standing side by side, but not making eye contact. His son was faster, stronger, and a better fighter than he'd ever been. But whenever Jacen got heavy like this, Han's instinct was still to wrestle him down and tickle him into a better mood. It hadn't worked since he hit puberty. 

"That's a bit harsh. You were a cute little kid. You had this great big gap tooth smile. It was even hard for me to resist."

"But you didn't let me take that toy," Jacen shook his head in that hang-dog guilty way, down and a little to the left. Like Luke. Like Leia.

"I knew Jania was going to buy it for you," Han shrugged off Jacen's guilt.

Jacen sighed, exasperated. "You're missing the point, Dad. You may never have floated a pebble. But you've also never let any of us push you around. And we are one pushy bunch."

"That's the truth." Han grunted out a laugh and looked at his son. _Of course she picked him for a bar fight with bounty hunters,_ Han thought. _I'd pick him, too._

He felt his shoulders ease and some of the tension in his back release. Jacen wouldn't have left Leia if she wasn't safe wherever she was hiding. And Jacen would've made sure he could get back to her fast, in case he needed to.

"So what you're saying," Han replied, picking up the conversation. "Is that being a hard headed S.O.B. is enough for me to join the Jedi club?"

Jacen shrugged. "It was enough for you to take Luke's fire truck, yesterday."

"Is that what I did?" Han rubbed his forehead. 

Han walked over to the bed and sat down. Family politics and galactic politics. Again. Being a pirate was much, much better than being a prince. Jania got that. Han knew she did. Jacen? He had whatever it was his mother had. That dank black hole of nobility, with its inescapable gravitational pull toward leadership. It was a wonder he'd stayed out of serious trouble until now.

"Fire truck," Han muttered, "that was the one that could hold a gallon of water and squirt in any direction right?"

"Yeah." There was the slightest blush on Jacen's cheeks and it broke Han's heart. 

"That was a great toy. Why the hell didn't I let them give that to us?"

"Mom hated the idea of it."

"Not once we got her one of her own." There was a playful sing song in his voice. That had been a really good summer. 

"She was lethal with that thing," Jacen agreed

Han's snort rolled into a chuckle. 

"We ended up paying full price for four of those," Han whined, yes whined, "and they were not cheap. I'd totally forgotten that I passed up a free one."

"I didn't," Jacen gave him a smirk.

"Obviously not," Han smirked back. He wasn't going to let Jacen use his own expressions against him. Even if the boy was fully grown. Even if, technically, they were Jacen's expressions, too. 

They stared at each other, until both had to laugh. Han thought it was good. This whole Jedi thing made everyone too serious. 

"Are you sure you wanna be a Jedi?" The territory was full of land mines, but the moment felt light. "I mean I know the toys are cool, but the meal plan is terrible. I don't see how learning to float pebbles and balance rocks can be worth having to eat Luke's ton-ton stew."

"You're right," Jacen nodded in solemn agreement. "That's why I do most of the cooking."

"And what makes up for having to take orders from Gree Percival?" 

He'd stepped in it now. He really hadn't meant to go there. Sometimes, things just came out of his mouth. He tried to pass it off with a smile, but only managed a grimace.

Jacen walked over and put both his hands on his fathers shoulder, leaning over to bring his face closer to Han's. He had the jaw of a man, but the smile lines around his mouth and eyes smoothed out instantly. No emotion, good or bad, had etched a place on his face yet. 

"I would die before I let any of those orders be carried out, Dad." 

"That does not make me feel better, Son." 

He pushed Jacen away and walked back over to the closet. Clues, he reminded himself. Clues. When he was Jacen's age he had been just as hot for adventure and probably more stupid. Jacen at least was studying something. Han had never looked back after getting his ship. Han bit at the inside of his cheek. They warned you about your daughters, but not your sons. Never your sons.

Leia's closet was incredibly frustrating. He couldn't tell if anything was missing or not. It was a giant jelly roll of clothes. Han started pulling at them, not entirely sure of his goal.

"Jania spends her days with angry Wookies, you pledge suicide right in front of me," Han pulled at a scrap of skirt. It tore in his hands. He scowled. "How your mother and I managed to raise two children without one iota of survival instinct--"

Jacen laughed, a rough chesty sound that filed the room. 

"Oh we know how to survive, its just that the opportunities for survival tend to be, well, _fraught._ "

"You know if you want to say you're a thrill seeker, just say it." 

"Chip off the old block."

"Well let me tell you right now. All this adventure and drama is a lot less satisfying when you're old." 

The room was rumpled, but only because he had been messing with Leia's things. Han had been on ships too long. He had the habits of neatness and minimalism that deep space demanded. Leia'd let all that go as soon as the war ended. 

She would leave things strewn, truly strewn, in colorful chaotic swoops. He'd made one, unidirectional pile of things from the closet. It wasn't the same at all. He sighed. 

"Don't worry, Dad. I can always fall back on my second career as a cook."

"Well, I guess that's something." 

He starred at the pile of Leia's clothes he'd made. It wasn't big. But he wasn't sure how to put them back where they belonged. There wasn't much order in that big locker of her's, but that didn't mean there wasn't any. He could take out all the clutter, fold it, and then put everything back. That would be one way to know what was missing. Or Jacen could just tell him where they'd gone already.

While Han was mulling, Jacen leaned down scooped up all the clothes, tossed them willy-nilly into the closet, and closed the door.

"You hungry?" the boy asked

"Where is she?" Han was staring at the closed door. Jacen was staring at him.

"Can't tell you. She made me swear."

Han scowled.

"She's trying to protect you, dummy," Jacen landed a light punch on his father's shoulder. "Right now, I'm the accessory to treason, but I'm also a Jedi apprentice. Nobody can dictate my punishment but the Jedi Counsel. You don't have that protection. You have to be able to honestly say that she never told you anything. That you weren't a part of it at all."

"Except for the hostage thing."

"Yeah, except for that."

Suddenly, the young man reached around and gave his father a hug. Han let out an "oof" with the squeeze. Jacen's chest was even broader than he remembered it. Han patted his son on the back and had trouble catching his breath. Once upon a time, he thought, I could hold you with one arm. Your head fit into my palm and your feet barely brushed my elbow. You were the big one.

"Besides," Jacen said, pulling out of the hug, "she bet both me and Chewie that you'd figure it out. We started a pool and I'm on the long end, so I've got no incentive to help you out."

Han looked at his son sideways. "Who bet short?" 

"Mom. Who else?"

"That's my Leia."


	12. A New Definition of Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Han and Leia making out on Hoth. This chapter contains smut.

ABY 2

Hoth was a new definition of cold. The Falcon’s systems had to be regularly flushed because it wasn’t safe to let the lines stay frozen all the time. Heating up the ship was the best part of his week.

Han never knew exactly when the clearance was going to come. There were lots of ships that had to be defrosted. He just had to wait for the his turn to come around, and hope some other crisis didn't get in the way.

Today he was hanging out with Luke and the other pilots, studying star charts and imperial maneuvers. It was busy work. A way to fill the time until C-3PO tottered up and told him it was time to fire his engines.

“That’s it gentlemen,” Han said dropping his sabacc cards on the table. “You are all off the hook for the next 90 to 160 minutes.” He walked off, eager to get the burners going.

Luke ran after him. “Why don’t I come with you.” 

“No need, kid.” 

“Come on. I know what a sauna you make the Falcon. I could use a good defrosting.” 

“You’re gonna get me in trouble.” Han strode across the hangar floor toward the falcon, Luke still nipping at his heels. 

“With who? Come one, we haven’t had a chance to talk in a while.”

“What were we just doing?” 

“I’m mean without the other guys around.” 

“Something troubling you kid?” Han rubbed his hands together and blowing on them, waiting for the Falcon’s ramp to squeak to the ground.

“It’s just that, well, I really thought you’d made a commitment to the rebellion,” Luke stumbled.

“I haven’t joined the Imperials by mistake have I?” Han tossed a smirk over his shoulder as he climbed up the ramp.

“Ha Ha” Luke jogged up after Han. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving?”

Han stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. “What makes you think I’m leaving, kid?”

“Come on Han, we all knew this was temporary. I’ve seen the way Chewie’s been laying in supplies. Things are settled enough here. The empire is still scrambling over the Death Star. It’s a good time for you to settle up your debts,” Luke was matter-of-fact. “Just, don’t go without saying goodbye, okay.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Han held out his hand and Luke grasped it.

“You should tell Leia, too. She’ll go ballistic, but only 'cause you’re one of her best.” Luke leaned on the bulk head as if he expected this to be a long conversation.

“Worst idea you’ve ever had.” Han turned away from Luke and started flipping the switches that would get the ship warm

“You can’t just let her wake up and find out you’ve gone.” 

“Why not? She’s never there when I wake up.” Han slipped off his jacket. 

“Don’t be a pig. I’m being serious, here. She’s your friend.”

“There is a long list of things Leia is to me, but I am not sure that _friend_ is on it. Besides, I don’t see you having any problem picking up the pieces, after I’m gone.” 

Han looked at Luke under his arm, hiding his expression. Luke shrugged, but he had a slightly naughty grin. 

“Don’t look so smug about it kid,” Han quickly swallowed any other reactions he might have.

There was a buzz on the com. Han answered it. “Solo here.” 

C-3PO’s voice crackled across the com. “I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but is Master Luke with you by any chance?”

“Yeah, I’m here 3PO.”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Sir, but there has been a change in schedule and you are needed on the flight deck.”

Han smiled to himself, sometimes 3PO’s timing was perfect.

“On my way,” Luke replied. “So much for defrosting. I never thought I’d miss the high desert, but I’d give my big toe to be warm, like, not-cold-at-all-in-any-way-warm, for even just a couple of minutes.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Han said.

Luke rolled his eyes and headed back to the dock, and out of the Falcon. 

“3PO, you need me?” Han asked the com. 

“No sir, you may continue with your scheduled maintenance.” 

“Thanks.” Han flipped another set of switches, and a steady soft rumble started beneath his feet.

The sounds of the ship became regular and steady after Luke left: a solid wall of white noise between him and the thoughts in his head. Han closed the docking ramp and leaned back into his command chair with a sigh. Eyes closed, he tilted his head back to the ceiling.

“Well that was interesting,” Leia said coming out from behind the bulkhead.

She was always on the ship before he got there. He didn’t know how she got on. He probably could have figured it out if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to. In his mind, she was on the ship because she belonged on the ship. 

“If I said I was leaving, would you go ballistic?” Han crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her accusingly.

“You have to ask?”

“Apparently.”

She walked over to him and put her hands on the arms of his chair, leaning forward. She smelled good:sweet and salty, it went right to his core. She whispered tauntingly into his ear.

“No. When you say it’s time to go, I won’t make a squeak of protest.”

“You’re a lousy liar.” He reached his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. He nuzzled her chest and neck, not knowing if she was lying at all.

They kissed. A long deep kiss full of everything he couldn’t be certain about. She pulled at his lower lips and dug her hands into his hair. He felt the arch and twist of her back as she moved to straddle him. He moaned out loud as she nibbled at his neck and jaw, grinding her hips down onto him.

“My pipes could use a good flush, too,” she said, sliding her hands down to start unbuckling his pants. “What about yours? You ready to defrost a little?”

When her hand wrapped around his cock an amorphous tension in his chest unwound. It was sexual frustration, it was absolutely that, but it was also more. She kept him at arm’s length everywhere else. Not that their little public performances weren’t fun. They were. This secret relationship was fun. It was also tenuous. He never knew if there would be a “next time” until it was starting to happen.

Leia smiled wickedly at him. Han kissed her possessively; his hands cupping her face as she unbuttoned his shirt and tugged at his pants. Han lifted his hips without letting go of her face. Leia, chuckled into his desperation as she freed his cock and pushed his pants down to his ankles. 

“I am going to blow out all your engines. By the time I’m done, there won’t be an ounce of fluid left in you.”

She was kissing down his chest, and he shivered as her hands raked over his body. He had one hand on her shoulder and one hand lightly on her head as she took his cock in her mouth. It warmed every inch of him. 

Her lips were soft and full around the head. Her tongue gently swirling and probing the rim, tracing the ridge on the underside. He groaned. She leaned back and gave him a dirty smile then spit on her hands and rubbed them together vigorously to warm them up before wrapping them around him. She was licking him up and down, making him slick. Her mouth wasn’t big, but she matched it with her hand and when she moved them together, wet and warm, it was hard to know what was what. Not that he wanted to figure it out. He just wanted to float in the sensation.

He bit his lip, and let out string of grunts and groans. Her mouth was pulling at the head of his cock. Her right hand around his shaft, moving with the nodding motion of her head, and he thought maybe her thumb was there too, rubbing just at the joint where the under-ridge of his shaft split the rim of his cock head. Her left hand brushed up his thighs and cupped his balls, a tingling touch that she gathered into a slight gentle tug.

He moaned and his fingers wrapped around her braided crown. It wasn’t much guidance, just the smallest flick of his wrist, but she responded, falling into a rhythm that made it hard for him to think. Han was making noises, he knew he was, but the rumbling of the engine blurred with the rumblings of his desire.

He could let this go on forever. Her mouth. Her hands. The feeling of her enveloping his cock, sliding up and down, the heat, the push and pull of it: it was like floating in a tropical sea. 

Leia made a soft growling sound and he looked down at her. Her eyes met his with a wicked expression. She sucked a little harder and he tightened his grip in her hair. There was an insistence that he thrust and drive a little harder, abandon his restraint.

Gods know he’d done it before. Fucked her mouth until he came and then eaten her out until he was hard again. That's what time in the Falcon was for, lusty sex where they worked through every position they could before the timer ran out. The images tumbled through his head: vivid physical memories of his cock scraping the back of her throat. The pull and shudder of his orgasm as she squeezed and swallowed. The feel in his hands of peeling her out of her snowsuit. The goosebumps on her skin when he caressed her. The musky taste and scent of her labia on the roof of his mouth. It was all there, the complete, desperate, physicality they had. Afterwards, he would be wasted and exhausted. But he would also be left alone with unanswered questions. It might be days before she talked to him again, or even looked his way.

Cupping her head, feeling how she nuzzled against his hand eagerly, feeling her tongue and lips expertly pulling at his cock he looked deep into her eyes and decided they needed to talk more than they needed to fuck.

“Chewie knows,” Han said, without breaking eye contact. Leia stopped abruptly, pulling back to stare at him.

“You told him?” 

“No.” She was still fully dressed, but his cock and balls were hanging out, getting rapidly colder. “Frankly, between my reputation and your rules, Highness, I could tell the whole base about this and no one would believe me.”

“How then? No one’s seen us, ever.” She sounded so fucking proud of herself.

“Everyone has seen us, the chemistry is obvious.” There was more anger than he expected in his voice. Would it be that bad to be seen with him?

“Don’t bullshit me, Han.” Leia stood up and walked away from him. “I wasn’t joking about about us, having to stay discrete.” She started pacing. Her mind somewhere entirely outside of the Falcon.

“He smelled it.” Han was mollified because she'd referenced their secret affair as an _us_. “He smelled us. On each other.”

Leia slumped against the wall and thumbed the back of her head against it. “I should have thought of that.” She banged her head harder. “Damn.”

“Hey.” Han jumped out of his chair, getting a little tangled in his pants. “Maybe this isn’t a bad thing?”

She looked at him like he’d gone mad. “This is a bad thing, Han. I’m your superior officer.”

“I’m not really in the rebellion remember. I’m a free-lance contractor.” His pants were back up around his hips, but he didn’t bother buttoning them, or his shirt.

“You think those other fly-boys are going to buy that?” 

“They might?” 

“Really?” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “How do you think Luke’s gonna take it. You don’t think finding out about us might throw off his game a little bit?” She stalked toward him, her face read with anger. “Darth Vader and the Emperor are still out there!”

“It always comes back to Vader!” It was better than saying it all came back to Luke.

“Yes! It always comes back to Vader! This is a war, Han. And it’s a war we have to win.”

“And you’d sleep with Luke if that would help.” He was speaking quietly now, but his voice dripped anger. His hands clenched.

“Yea, you know what, I would!” She tossed her head back, nostrils flaring.

“And you’re sleep with me just to keep the cargo moving!” The words burned him as they left his mouth, but he didn’t regret saying them. 

“You’re getting paid for your time and effort.”

“Not enough!” 

“Well, then good riddance!” She turned away from him. She was breathing heavily. It wasn’t like she could storm out. If she left people would wonder how she’d gotten on the ship. She was so careful, so full of secrets. She was always everywhere, doing everything that had to get done. He wanted to reach out and wrap her up in his arms. He wanted to carry her off and say, _"Fuck this war. Fuck every way its hurt you. You are mine now, and I’m not going to just stand by and watch you waste away."_ Instead he buckled his pants and looked at the ceiling.

“So are you?” He asked at last, still seething, and already pitying himself.

“Am I what?”

“Are you sleeping with Luke? For the good of the rebellion?” 

She laughed bitterly. “You’re kidding right?”

“You brought him up.” Han tried to busy himself with something mechanical and nearby that did not need to be messed with.

Leia sighed heavily and rubbed the back of her neck. “Luke doesn’t want to sleep with me. He just doesn’t want anyone else to, either.” There was dull resignation in her tone, like the topic bored her. “He’s possessive, not passionate.”

“I’ll agree with the possessive part.”

“You jealous?” 

Han ground his teeth, “You don’t let me come within arm’s length of you outside of this ship, but Luke gets a kiss for luck before every mission.”

“On the cheek!” Leia swept out her arm in a dismissive gesture. “Seriously Han, think about Luke for ten seconds. I could never fuck him, he’d--he’d blubber!” She was angry and exasperated. “Have you seen that? No! So you know damned well where I stand with Luke.” 

The image of a love-struck, love-lorn Luke skipping through the blue white tunnels in his orange jumpsuit overtook Han for a moment. He blinked and snorted down a chuckle. 

Han let himself fall back down into the command chair and dropped his head into his hands. This whole thing with Leia was really doing a number on him. The first time he’d found her waiting in the ship, her proposal had sounded fantastic. No strings. No commitment. No expectations. Just a chance to blow off steam. To warm up like the ship before heading back into their roles. A little bubble of time with no before or after.

The first couple of weeks were electric. Magic. In the Falcon she was direct and playful, she laughed at his jokes. She sighed at his kisses and moaned at his touch. 

For a while it was fun teasing the other dumb shmoes at the card table about having a crush on her. They all did. All the flyboys. At one point or another. He felt smug next to their unrequited longing, until one day it suddenly wasn’t okay anymore. He wasn’t okay with just sitting there while Frankie or Jax speculated on whether she'd spit or swallow.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to talk about your S.O. like that?” 

“What’s wrong Solo?” Jax said, “Luke turn you into the purity police for the night?”

“As if he’d take the night off!” Frankie laughed.

“And Princess Pretty Pants isn’t my S.O.,” Jax added.

“She out ranks all of us,” Han replied.

“Yea, well, she’s rich, right,” Jax argued. “Fundraisers always get fancy titles, not like they mean much in combat.”

Han folded his cards and walked away. He wandered until he found her. She was on the command floor bouncing between stations. Without Leia neither of those two clowns would have fuel for their X-wings. Neither would have X-wings. They got to fight the glorious fight because she was doing the drudge work for them.

She was nuts. A zealot for the cause. His heart ached for her. As he watched her move through the war room, he could still see his Leia underneath, the one he knew from the Falcon, but here she was something else. A flag. A mascot. A coach. A commander. A princess with only the crown of her hair. He stared long enough that she got uncomfortable and came out to see him.

“Captain Solo, is there something you wish to speak about?” She meant he should go away. She didn’t want him here. She didn’t want a scene. She didn’t want him in her life. Not her real life.

“No, I just, um," there were dark heavy circles under her eyes, “Have you eaten today?” He surprised himself as he said it.

“What?”

“I don’t remember seeing you in the mess the last few days.”

“And?” 

“And, when was the last time you ate?” 

“I don't have time for this.” She turned to leave. He blocked her. It wasn’t hard. C-3PO was still waddling after her. All Han had to do was push past her and put an arm around the droid, thereby filling the hallway and blocking her retreat. He figured it was subtle enough, right? He wouldn’t see her for weeks if she thought he was being publicly insubordinate. At least more publicly insubordinate than he was with everyone else. The risk seemed worth it.

“3PO, when was the last time the Princess ate?” He was hushed and serious.

“3PO, don’t answer that,” Leia growled.

“Answer it, 3PO.”

“The princess had a ration bar 4 hours ago.” The droid turned his head stiffly between the two of them.

“There,” Leia said to Han, “are you happy now?”

“No. 3PO, is the Princess consuming her required minimum calories for the weather?” 

“Screw you, Solo.” Her eyes flashed with anger, but her voice was low and controlled. They were still trying to appear professional.

“Why, no sir,” the droid replied. “I had not thought about it, but I don’t think she has been.”

“I hate you.” Leia growled at Han.

“Not me, sweetheart.” He’d cheated. Cornered her and started a conversation that undermined her authority. She couldn’t just yell him down like she wanted without drawing attention to herself, and that was to be avoided more than anything else.

“Don’t call me sweetheart. It's insubordinate. If I hear it again I'll have your wages docked.” 

“3PO I want you to make sure that me, or Luke, or Chewie, know when the Princess is supposed to be at mess so that we can meet her there and make sure she eats.” 

“I don’t need you to babysit me.” 

3PO looked between the two of them without saying anything.

“I’m not going to let you work yourself to death for people that don’t appreciate you.” 

“ _I’m_ not important!”

“Like hell! This place would fall apart without you.” 

“What do you care!” 

“I care!” 

They were both raising their voices and people nearby were starting to take notice. She shook her head in a tiny little no. Barely a message. Then turned and walked off. The fly-boys were changing shift. Normally that made it a raucous time of hallway horseplay, but today they all flattened against the walls to get out of Leia's way.

He wasn’t sure he’d see her in the Falcon again. When he did, three weeks later, they didn’t talk at all. He’d stripped her as fast as he could and they’d fucked on top of the chess board. Then over the back of the lounge. Then on the floor, and finally up against the bulkhead. They might have eventually made it to the bunks if the alarm hadn’t rung telling him to shut down his engines.

He’d bleached everything, but Chewie had grumbled for days.

“Hey” Leia touched his shoulder, breaking his reverie, bring him back to the now, and this fight they were having, again “Sorry I flew off the handle like that. I’m glad you told me that Chewie figured it out.” She gulped and sighed, “I get why you guys are laying in supplies to leave now. Thank you. It’s the smart move.”

He grasped her waist and buried his face in her middle. He wondered briefly how much of their time was left. How many more minutes in this bubble. He wasn’t planning on leaving. Chewie was going to take the Falcon to Kyshaak for some family time. Until today, Han had planned on staying behind. 

Now she expected him to go. She thought it was the smart move. He shivered, despite the heat of the Falcon. It was awfully cold in here. He could go with Chewie. They could swing by Mos Eisely and pay off his debts. She had always expected him to go. He kissed her, pressing his lips to the fabric that covered her belly, and squeezing her as tightly as he could.

“I want more of you,” he confessed, his voice muffled.

She took a slow breath, in and out. Her heart was pounding. He raised his face to look at her, and her eyes stayed with him. Emotions scudded across her face faster than he could identify them. She quivered. That was the only word for it.

“There is no more of me.” 

He was afraid she meant it. How could he leave her?

Leia kissed the top of his head softly while the engines rumbled.


	13. A Grimy Little Oasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He liked this rounder life much better. The soft luxury of dimpled thighs and laughter. A Leia who would ignore the to do list and have a second helping if dinner was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 13

"Everything I own makes me look fat!" Leia declared throwing a gauzy green thing on the floor. 

Han couldn't tell for sure, but she actually seemed less packed than she had an hour ago.

"Don't take anything then. We'll buy clothes when we're there. Or, better yet," he pulled her close with a wink and a grin, "maybe we won't." 

She blushed, then rolled her eyes and wiggled out of his arms.

The kids were screaming with joy downstairs. They were five and some months. Chewie was letting one hang from each arm as he spun around. Their parents were going on vacation, and in return the kids were getting ten days of Chewie's rough housing and Luke's magic tricks. They were ecstatic. Han was pretty excited, too.

Leia flashed him a smile over her shoulder, she was still wound up in a fussy little huff. She faced the closet with her hands on her hips and pulled out a sleeveless orange dress that hung in a tight column. 

He remembered it from their honeymoon. It'd been dropped on his side of the bed early and then hadn't moved. He'd stepped carefully around it for days. He had surprisingly warm feelings toward that dress.

Leia put the hanger under her chin and pulled at the waist with both hands, measuring it over her hips. 

"It will never fit." 

"Then don't take it." He pulled it out of her hands and dropped it on his side of the bed, where it belonged.

"All I have are mom clothes!" She said smoothing her fingers through her short hair. "I can't go on a trip like this!"

He reached out to ruffle her head. 'Cause it was fun. The twins had reshaped her body, leaving it softer and fuller. She'd been thin as a rail back when they were fighting the war. Those were cold years. She used to talk as if everyone around her was a pixilated set of traits. That they only mattered in how useful they could be to the cause. She talked about herself that way too. It had shown in the pull of her skin over her bones.

He liked this rounder life much better. The soft luxury of dimpled thighs and laughter. A Leia who would ignore the to-do list and have a second helping if dinner was good.

"You're beautiful." He cupped her face. "What you wear doesn't matter." 

She smiled at him, full of indulgence.

"Hey," he wrapped his left arm around her waist while he used the right to gesture. "Except for this one serious exception, starving prisoner has never, ever, been my type of girl."

"Oh." Leia, cocked an eyebrow at him. "And how did this exception feel about your largess?"

"Well, I didn't really talk to her about it. You know me, I'm a coward. Its hard to pull off a conversation like that with any woman, but especially a smart one."

"Really? How gentlemanly of you."

"Don't make fun. She was almost as smart as you, and you know how that turns me on. But I had to keep her at a distance till she put on some weight. I thought she might eat me alive."

"You know," Leia leaned into him, putting her arms around his neck. "I think I remember this girl."

"Do you?" A smile played on his lips.

"Yeah," Leia gazed up at him with her big brown eyes. "In fact, I have a message from her."

"What's that?" Han was starting to feel some heat in his face too.

Leia dug her fingers into the base of his hairline and pulled his ears down to her lips. 

"She's still gonna eat you alive." The blood rushed out of his head. "Did you and Chewie finish installing those new double berths on the Falcon." She asked nuzzling against his neck. 

He gave a muffled yes.

"Then what do we need a hotel for anyway?" 

The baby-voiced squeals and Wookie growls were still winding their way upstairs. He couldn't think of any reason not to get away as fast as they could.

They'd taken two bags. Neither with any of the clothes she'd scattered about the room. They had stopped at a trading posts to buy supplies and a few of the tackiest outfits they could find. 

Then they spent three days drifting from one pretty vista to another, before settling into low orbit around an obscure planet. It had great auroras and a relatively abandoned space station. The place was an industrial outlet with a few rooms available for potential investors or workmen in transit. More importantly, it had a bar. A grimy little oasis. Exactly what two old war vets were looking for.


	14. The Only Ship I Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he could get to Leia he could talk sense to her. The problem was all in the timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

"She's my ship!" Han yelled at the curator on the vid. "I don't care what the historical commission says. I can get her out of dry dock whenever the hell I want to!"

Lando had been assigned to babysit him. He still wasn't actually a proxy so Han couldn't be on the floor during the vote; turned out C-3PO had that honor via pre-recorded holo. But nobody had asked the droid and the 3PO had carefully avoided mentioning it until he had to.

Still, Han was _The War Hero._ They all had some plan to use him. Smiling photos if things went well. Who knows what if they went badly. So, he was locked in Leia's ante-chamber with Security Commissioner Lando Clarissian. 

Luke was voting. Jania and Jacen were working the floor, doing whatever last minute things they did. Chewie was still gone. That left Lando. The only one with nothing better to do. He was enjoying being Han's jailer. Maybe a little too much. And he was eating all the food.

"You know there are other ships" Lando said innocently.

"Not for me." 

Han sat down at the table. It was 3PO's spread. Full of random things Han had mentioned liking at some point: bar-b-que sandwiches, spicy kebabs, frozen pickles in ice cream--that was a really old joke gone bad. Han decided he wasn't hungry.

"Come on, I know you've taken some of those diplomatic cruisers out for spin."

"Not for this." Han turned to the ticker on the wall. "How's the vote going?"

"It's close, but we're ahead." 

Lando popped something breaded and deep fried into his mouth and Han got queasy listening to it squish between his teeth.

"This is worse than waiting for the Death Star to blow up," Han reached across the table for some dry bread. He was trying to sound nonchalant and knew it wasn't working. Maybe he could sell ironic. 

"No, its not," Lando replied, his brow furrowed with condescension, or concern. It was hard to tell. 

"When you put a gun in my hand and give me someone to point it at, then I'll agree its better." 

"Luke can pull it off. He always has before." 

"That's not the way I remember it." Han put the bread back down. He'd ripped it to shreds, but hadn't actually eaten anything.

Jacen and Jania had been acting like agitated wasps as the vote approached. Luke had been right about one thing. It turned out that he was very good about getting people to do what he wanted, once he figured out what was worth wanting. 

"So what's Plan B. What are we doing if this vote goes badly?"

Lando, the old fox, smiled and put his access card on the table. 

"I stashed an extra uniform here earlier. If things go badly you put it on, punch me in the nose, and flee for the Jedi Temple."

"Luke's going to commit treason against the Senate?" Han asked incredulously.

"Luke is occupied on the senate floor. He won't be there when you steal Jacen's ship and he won't have any idea about why R2D2 was aboard and ready to navigate," Lando continued. "Or why R2 was pre-programed to meet up with the rest of the fleet."

"The rest of the fleet?" 

"Until Leia comes back, you're the face of Alderaan. The fleet will need you." 

A fleet. What a joke. It would be a bunch of short distance cruisers and rapidly converted family transports. Gree Percival's new rules wouldn't _officially_ exile the Alderaani or any of the other refugee cultures, but none would want to stick around. 

They'd expect him to run. If he didn't he'd be forfeit when Leia didn't come back to get killed instead. He considered staying in place. It was the only absolute way to ensure no one would be hunting her. It also felt stupid. The only gamble worth taking was to keep them all alive and together.

If he could smuggle the fleet into Wookie sovereign space they would be fine. Well, fine enough. That treaty, at least, would be honored, but it could leave the whole fragile puzzle of the New Republic in pieces. 

Civil war. The senate sending troops into the colony to enforce the death warrants. The colony resisting. 

Or Leia would come back. While he was occupied playing Prince Consort, she'd present herself at the Jedi Temple so Luke could kill her and the rest of her people could live in peace. Including himself and the kids. Including Luke and his new order.

If he could get to Leia first, he would be able to talk sense to her. The problem was all in the timing.

Han couldn't realistically kidnap and hold Luke. Not anymore. And not with a fleet to look after. Plus, he still didn't know where Leia was. Chewbacca would probably try to get in her way if she decided to do anything to self-sacrificing. Jacen and Jania together might waylay Luke, but that was cold comfort. How would any of them get around the mind meld thing Luke and Leia could do. If she wanted him to find her, or if he promised her sanctuary . . .

"I'm too old and too ornery for this crap, Lando." How could his family get into so much trouble so quickly? 

"Aren't we all," Lando replied. "Let me tell you, I don't regret for an instant that it was you she married."

# # #

ABY 4

"Someone who loves you." 

He was blind and shaking and nauseous and his heart was striking sharp beats in his chest. His hands and feet were numb. His skin burned. He was finally dead. This would be his hell; being close to her but unable to see or touch her. 

Lando was supposed to have carried her off. Swept her away from the Empire and whatever plans Darth Vader had. Lando had wanted to. He certainly knew how to romance a girl with a wounded heart. Luke would win her over eventually. But Lando would get her out of the Empire's way till all that was settled.

She was supposed to forget about him, but here she was whispering impossible promises. People like him didn't get princesses. They didn't get rescued. They rotted away frozen in carbonite. He'd paid the price when the bill came due. How could the gods expect more than death? 

Then Jabba laughed and it all got worse. 

She would get hurt avenging him, and he would have to know. He would hear her scream. He was a helpless piece of rubble. 

Han knew damned well what happened to pretty girls in Jabba the Hut's court. He'd watched them dance. He'd seen them offered around, willing and unwilling. Seen them dropped into the Rancor pit and devoured when they fought being used. When they fought being raped.

He had never stepped in to help, not once. It had never been _his_ girl before. They had never been people. Not the way Leia was a person. They were just "the slave girl," then "the new slave girl."

Things did not get brighter when he realized he was still alive. 

Chewie said Luke was coming. Chewie repeated over and over that they were all in on it: Luke, Leia, Lando, the droids . . . as if that made any sense. He growled that there was a plan. That it was rough, but that there was a plan. 

"Luke? Luke's crazy! He can't even take care of himself, much less rescue anybody."

Chewie barked again, bravely.

"A Jedi Knight? Jeez, I'm out of it for a little while and everyone gets delusions of grandeur!"

Chewie mewled and pet his head.

"So was it his idea then? Did Luke set Leia up for this? Didn't you tell him what happened here?" 

Chewie growled plaintively and he was right. Who was going to stop her? When that woman decided to die for the people she loved, who in the known universe was going to stop her? The most a Jedi could do was plan around it and fight to keep up. 

That was the moment that Han knew. If he lived, if she lived, he was going to follow her for the rest of his life. Or he was going to die trying. 

Afterward, they'd all congratulated Luke for showing up and coming through. He'd wanted the praise and she didn't. But the way Han saw it, Leia was the princess who slew the dragon: wrapped it up in the chains forged for her, and choked the life out of it. Luke had just been a really effective distraction and a decent getaway driver. 

She had scars. No one should wear metal against their skin in 112 degree heat. Lando made one crack about how good she had looked in that bikini. Han still regretted that he didn't get the chance hit him. Chewie got there first. Then Lando had scars, too.

It got harder and harder to keep up the bickering and the banter. He had dreams about her that were shrouded in darkness. Dreams where she danced slow and sultry into the arms of Darth Vader then strangled him with her own braided hair while the Emperor laughed. He'd wake up sweating and wish that Obi-Wan Kenobi was still around to answer his questions. Or even Luke: baby-face, self-absorbed, easily distracted, Luke. 

She had no army, but she'd won a place among the generals. When word of the new, second, Death Star reached them, she strode from meeting to meeting and everyone could feel the intensity boiling off her.

"We have to attack! If we let this Death Star get operational again, what happened to Alderaan will happen to all of you."

He volunteered for Endor before she could take the job. It was obvious that she wanted it. She was too quick to tell other people it was impossible, or a suicide mission. Eliminating the competition, that's what she was doing. He'd stepped up before they turned to her as the last one left. He was a smuggler, that seemed to be the right skill set. 

He didn't know how to say no when she volunteered to come with him. Or when Luke showed up again, just in the nick of time. 

You could always count on Luke to show up for the fight. Especially if it was Leia's fight. It was the aftermath he didn't handle well.

# # #

ABY 35

"The Falcon," Lando said again, changing the topic.

"The only ship I trust." Han wished the vote was over already.

"So you know where Leia's hiding then?" 

"I've got a few ideas. A couple of her favorite places to check." 

"No idea at all then," Lando clarified.

"None." Han poured himself a drink.

Lando poured himself a drink, too. "You know I loved that ship before you did, but have you looked at it lately? I mean really looked? She's got micro-fissures through every part of the hull. She's a great ship, maybe the greatest. But she hasn't had an easy life. Hell, she was pretty battered before either of us got our hands on her. I don't think she's up for an open ended wander through free-space."

"They've been restoring her for years!" 

"They've been preserving her for years, which is not the same thing."

Lando could be so smug sometimes. Usually when he was right. The jerk.

"The Falcon can fly," Han said seriously.

"Just cause you want it to be true doesn't mean it actually is. Even you can't will a broken weld together." 

"Watch me." 

The vid buzzed again. When Han answered it Jania appeared.

"We're going to win, Dad, you better get down here for the press conference. I'll do all the talking but they are going to want to see your face. Wear the Alderaan uniform, okay?"

"I tried to pull it all together when you asked, yesterday, but I can't find the damned shirt."

"Wear a different one." 

"I would, but I don't have anything else with the Organa sigils, and that's the political part right?"

Jania sighed, exasperated, and rolled her eyes. She looked just like her mother. She must have been in a really good mood.

"Jacen's got one," she huffed. "I'll send him over." 

"Thanks, Ladybug." 

They'd won. His face was smiling before his brain had fully caught up to the thought. 

"Oh, and tell Lando he's welcome to come, too," Jania continued perkily.

So that was it. No blasters. No secret escape. No civil war. They'd won. Now he just had to get dressed for victory. The uniform was laid out carefully: poofy pants, boots, long fitted vest, and an open overcoat with folded-back tails. 

Lando laughed as Han struggled with the buttons on the side of his jodhpurs. 

"Its been thirty years, but you still just look like a smuggler in a costume."

"I still feel like a smuggler in a costume. Lando, there are some message machines, somewhere in here, do you know how to work them? I mean these press conferences can last forever and, well, just in case--"

"You're hoping she'll call aren't you?" Lando cut off his meanderings. 

"It's over, right? I'm not a hostage anymore. I can travel. She can call." 

"Use that brilliant criminal mind of your's Solo!" Lando laughed. "She can't call you. I mean if she thought she was going to be hiding from Republic, or worse, from Luke, she'd want someplace remote. Someplace without any instant communications, someplace no one could report her on impulse. She also wouldn't want people to see simulcasts of her wanted posters. Leia can talk herself out of most trouble, but she's got to have the time to talk."

"Lando, you are much better at this as a cop then you were as a crook." 

"Impressed?" 

"Terrified. The only problem is that people are so much dumber than you think. They don't see Leia, they just see those damned white dresses. The last Princess of Alderaan in her mourning robes, dressed for the funeral that never ends. You know, I've seen her put on my scruffy coat and walk across the floor of the senate itself without anyone noticing her." 

Han stopped still, a boot in one hand and his overcoat in the other. 

"My scruffy clothes." He threw the other boot to the floor, feeling like a dumb-ass. 

There was a ring at the door and Han marched lop-sidedly over to answer it. Jacen stood there, shirt on his arm and an innocent look on his face. 

"I know where she is," Han said to his son. "I know exactly where she is."

"Good," Jacen smiled. "But, you've only got ten days left before it she loses the bet, and you're going to need more than that just to get the Falcon's hyperdrive working again."


	15. A Whole New Skin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody loves her more than you do. In fact I think that sometimes your love was the only thing holding that glorious old battleship together. You loved her, and she loved you right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

"The Millennium Falcon is a class one galaxy ship of semi-custom design." The bland voice of the recording was probably meant to be soothing. Han thought she sounded like an uptight droid. 

"Originally commissioned at the Correllian Midway shipyard, the Falcon began her life as a cargo freighter. For several years she moved a variety of goods between the Correllian moons and other space stations. At only 15 years of age she was decommissioned in favor of newer, larger, imperial cruisers. She changed hands many times before being bought at auction by Lando Calrissian, who promptly lost the deed to the ship in a card game. She was won by the pilot we associated with her, the young Han Solo and his partner, the engineer Chewbacca. This team promptly set about making many novel and ingenious modifications to the ship. Before the end of the Great Rebellion, the Millennium Falcon, Solo, Chewbacca, and even Calrissian would become renowned for their roles as leaders in the Rebel Alliance."

"Don't you get tired of listening to that?" Luke asked strolling onto the promenade.

"Can't turn it off. I own the ship not the museum." 

He was staring intently at the droids working on the hull. A small line of sparks was coming off a micro welder pressed against some exposed wire. Suddenly a column of blue flame flared out of the side of the ship. Everyone on the ground scrambled and Han grimaced.

"Idiots!" Han yelled over the railing. "The idea is _not_ to break anything. Get them under control R2!"

"That's a lot of droids on the job," Luke said.

"Tell me about it. This is costing an arm and a leg."

"So why not do the work yourself?"

"Because that would take longer."

"I'm sure Leia would prefer that you loose her bet and arrive safely." 

"You don't know your sister very well, do you?" 

Luke snorted. "Maybe not." 

The two stared out at the ship. He'd made the Museum deal when the kids were ten or so. A free place to park and with guards too? Sounded good at the time. He still came out to work on her as often as he could, but the to-do list built up. It had gotten long. 

"They are going to give her a whole new skin." Han pointed at the workers. "That's what the tech curators will allow. One square meter at a time they are painting on this epoxy that sinks down and fills all the cracks. They do it over and over in thin little layers. The whole hull will be...new. But it won't look any different. The battle scars and rust and dents will all still be there, just under a layer of super-dense nano paint. The inside too. They're letting me replace some of the parts that have crashed out from just sitting too long, but I can't get anything straight out the box. Everything has to be _distressed_ so that it will look original."

"Huh." Luke tossed his hair out of his eyes and squinted at the ship.

"If you take a ship apart, panel by panel, and replace everything with an exact copy, is it still the same ship at the end?" Han leaned on his elbows over the railing.

"You having doubts?" Luke glanced at him.

"When do I not have doubts?" 

"I'm sure the Falcon will be space-worthy soon." Luke grinned wide, and gave Han the side-eye. "One of the Curators grabbed me on the way in to ask if we could schedule a lecture tour, the three of us and the ship."

Han shook his head. "Just like old times." 

"I imagine there will be less shooting and more appetizers on trays." Luke was learning about sarcasm in his old age. Diplomacy did that to you eventually.

"Sounds delightful." Han grinned at Luke. "How are you enjoying your new Senate gig?"

"Politics is a thankless job." Luke rolled his eyes.

"Especially if you don't take bribes." 

They stopped talking. The sizzle and mopping sounds of the workmen below filled the space. 

The Millennium Falcon. For a long time she was the only woman Han loved. The only one he could stand to be around. Sometimes it had felt ridiculously cramped when it was just him and Chewie, then in the space of a few totally unexpected weeks it had opened up: Luke, Leia, the Droids even, and eventually the kids. They all belonged on that ship now. She had grown to hold them all. Now, being alone with her was actually a bit disconcerting. Awkward. Like running into an old friend that you owed money. 

"She wants you to find her," Luke said, interrupting his thoughts.

"Of course she does." 

The answer was rote. Luke had hit a nerve. Everything had been so clear when there was still a fight with Gree Percival. Win. Save Leia. Set it right. But now that the reunion was actually going to happen, he wasn't sure what it would be like. Fighting with Leia, or beside Leia, was easy. Just talking was a lot harder.

Winning was always followed by a vast empty space, and he was floating weightless and numb in it. Luke sighed. It was exactly the sound Han wished he could make. Han hoped that maybe, just this once, the kid would read his mind. He hated hoping for that.

Luke rolled his hands around the railing and looked up at the ceiling. "I know that life with Leia hasn't always been easy--"

"I never wanted easy," interrupted Han. "I don't think either of you understood that. Leaving Mos Eisley to rescue a princess was the biggest gamble, the biggest win, of my crazy life. There's a freaking museum tape singing my praises right now." Han pointed at the speaker. "I was supposed to die young. Probably in a bar fight. I was not supposed to end up rich and respectable. Where in the world did that come from? I'm still just faking it."

Luke smiled and exhaled. "If you knew how many times Leia's said nearly that exact same thing to me--" He shook his head, like he was amused.

"Yea, well she's wrong." Han didn't find any of this funny.

"So are you. You earned everything you have." 

"I didn't earn her," Han pointed at the Falcon. "That was just luck. I didn't earn her, and I didn't keep her up either. I pushed her to the limit and then got lazy, failed to do even the basic maintenance and now she has to be filled and _faked_ and taken apart and put back together as if nothing has changed, when everything is actually different." Han put his head down and rubbed at his forehead. "Then they want a parade." 

Luke stared at the ship for a long time. He leaned down on the railing, settling himself close Han. Luke was matching Han's breathing or something. Stupid. Han decided that the air in this hanger was rancid. He was wheezing raggedly, his chest burning and sore. His lungs weren't able to open up and catch a decent swallow.

"There's one thing that's the same," Luke said at last. "Nobody loves her more than you do. In fact, I think that sometimes your love was the only thing holding that glorious old battleship together. You love her, and she loves you right back."

Han thought maybe there was more to say, but there wasn't any air left to form the sounds.


	16. No, We Never Fought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're going to marry me for my ship?" Han asked, pulling her into his arms.
> 
> "Do you mind?" Leia inquired.
> 
> "No," said Han. "It makes perfect sense to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 6-7

"Are you sure you want to do this?" 

They had a license and a judge waiting. She'd warned him there would probably be some fake pomp and circumstance afterward, back on Courescant, but it could also be real right now. Just for the two of them.

"Yea" Leia replied, smiling at him, "I think I am." She was blushing and the warm pink of her cheeks matched her dress. There were hot pink flowers in her hair too.

A little less than ten minutes later, some old man gave his solemn permission, "You may now kiss the bride." Han leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. She belonged in his arms and he belonged in hers, and everyone in known space was going to have to respect that now.

They'd been kicking around Corellia for six or eight weeks by then. The Empire had fallen and a new Republic was ready to be built. Well it would be ready if they, _The Ambassadors,_ could find the money, the technocrats, and the popular will. Most planets were more interested in their own wounds than the interstellar power structure. The Republic had failed them only a few decades earlier.

Corellia was still fairly well off; still interested in trade; and still full of fluttering pearl-clutchers who enjoyed the idea of royal blood lines and forbidden romances. Leia had turned down his second proposal as soon as they'd landed, but nobody knew that. 

There was a holo-novella that came out while they were touring Han's homeworld. It was mostly about him, and it was mostly wrong. It made him into a poor noble trying to rebuild his family's honor instead of the orphan smugger he actually was. Who knows. Maybe a lordling did sleep with a housemaid somewhere in his ancestry. It was possible. 

They got everything wrong about Leia except her name. The whole Jabba the Hut episode was glossed over with a only a minor nod to nakedness. 

Luke wasn't left out all together, but, on the holo, he popped out of the desert a full Jedi monk. "I can feel the force drawing you together" Actor Luke said, when Actor Han Solo was too dumb, or too noble, to make a pass. 

The whole thing made Leia laugh so hard she got cramps. It was the only thing she never got tired of talking about. Nobody knew about Luke's connection to Vader then. Or Leia's connection to either man. The Holo-vid, the Han and Leia romance, those two things were the biggest gossip around.

So they traveled. Ambassadors. Celebrities. Celebrities in love.

Every low-life he'd ever known showed up to try and get a piece of the action. Han was happy to see them all. Each of those con men was someone he could feed alive to the frou-frou elite. Some were like fantastic guided missiles and the money and pledges they pulled were worth everything they skimmed off the top. Others were just cannon fodder. Human shields between Leia and all the intense, well-meaning, unending Alderaan memorials.

Bail Organa had been a rich man. A well connected man. A man with a lot of business partners. The husband of a Queen. 

"That ship!" Leia would say, with perfectly pitched excitement. "God, I remember that ship. He got it from you? I had no idea." 

They worked down the list provided by their infant government. A list of people who would find themselves sad and guilty the moment they laid eyes on Princess Leia. There was always a moment when a bottle of some rare elixir came down from the shelf. The old men would shake their heads. "I can't believe it. I just can't believe they're all gone." Then the stories started to flow.

Han learned a lot. He learned about Bail Organa's youthful escapades about how impressive his royal wedding was, about his children. All his children. It turned out Leia was one of seven. It was a large clan, with a mix of adopted and birthed children. She was third, but only a year apart from number four, her sister Hannah. People mixed them up in stories. Leia corrected them politely. 

The old men who wept at their own tales made the largest donations. Leia patted their shoulders as they cried into her lap.

Later, in the night, Han held her, as her body twitched and shook: with bad dreams; with grief and rage that didn't fit into tears; with the sheer exhaustion of her vengeance. 

He took her to the cheap neighborhoods and the dives he loved. She whispered new secrets. There were purple blossoms on a tree outside her childhood bedroom. One summer she had tamed a squirrel that lived in those flowers. Slowly, she talked about her parents. Then, even more slowly, about her sisters and brothers. 

Both of her older brothers were part of the rebellion. They'd had heat, though, and everyone thought it would be better if she took the droid mission. She was completely under the radar. 

It seemed ironic now. Obi-Wan Kenobi gave her into that family. A place to disappear in the crowd and grow up safe. Then it was a search for Obi-Wan Kenobi that pulled her out. Of course it had been her mission to find him. She was the living icon of his obligation. He couldn't turn her down. Her parents knew that.

She figured they would have come out by now, the other Organas, if any of them had survived. They would have come out ages ago, back when the Alliance needed leaders. She'd jumped ranks based on little more than the family name and sheer force of will. No one else from her family had survived. 

Leia guessed that they new about her capture early. It was an event that would have caused her mother and father to call everyone home. The Queen would want all her other children close to plan Leia's ransom, or her funeral. 

But it didn't work out that way.

Once and only once, she told Han that she suspected Vader had done it backwards on purpose. Spared her and destroy them because he felt some unadmitted paternal tug. It was disgustingly cliche. A jealous father, taking the girl out of the world. Locking her away in a tower. While he had asked Luke to rule the kingdom.

Leia's life had been above all that stereotype--until suddenly it wasn't. She starred in her own story. Then, with the flick of an old man's finger, she had become entourage. A set piece for a farm boy with grandiose dreams and a hustler who didn't know how big a dream could be.

"Other people," she whispered late at night, "are the unending abyss. You think you can know them, but you can't. All you can do is pick out patterns and hope they hold. No one knows who will end up important and who won't. Inside everyone it's vast and alien." 

Han worried about her all the time. But he also felt smug. He was her secret keeper. He totally missed that she was part of the vast and alien _everyone,_ and so was he.

They got asked the same questions over and over, and they gave the same answers:

"Yes, it was absolutely love at first sight."

"No, we never fought about anything. It was a complete meeting of the minds."

"Actually, Leia is the better shot."

"And when are you getting married?" 

Always that one. Like a kick to the shins.

Leia would smile a sad shy smile that she had rehearsed to perfection. 

"Technically, the period of mourning for Alderaan and my family hasn't passed yet. I had to delay it for the war. But I'm sure you can understand why its so important for me to honor those customs."

It was a skillful deflection and it worked most of the time. But just caddy-corner to the world of rich people who won't talk about anything difficult or unseemly, is the world of rich people who don't talk about anything else.

That's why about six or eight weeks in, they found themselves in a big home theater with 30-40 other people, watching a holographic surround sound display of the lost wonders of Alderaan. It was so much worse than a weepy old man.

Leia sat through most of it with a stone face: the mountains, the oceans, the architecture and art. Then there were news reels and vintage footage of house Organa. Her whole family lined up on a balcony and waiving at a passing parade. Candid shots by paparazzi, press photos that were probably used as holiday or thank you cards. When those washed over her, she wept; big fat tears rolling silently down her cheeks. The catty couple that set it up seemed to take her tears as a triumph. 

Han didn't have a plan when he walked over to talk to them. He really didn't intend to throw the first punch. That just happened. You could have heard a pin drop in the room after the buffet table tipped over. Summoning up what dignity he could, Han walked back over to Leia and offered her his arm. His only thought at that moment was that he'd better get her out of the room. 

She took his arm, her eyes still wet and round. They walked out together. He thanked their hosts as the auto doors closed. Once they were in the transport, she started gasping and hiccuping. Slowly he realized she was laughing and a smile spread across his own face. 

"There was a pie," she said, "on the dessert table as we walked out. I should have picked it up and thrown it."

"Well we could go back? Or I could find us somewhere else to get into a fight. Somewhere less expensive."

"No, I don't want to get in a fight," her brow was wrinkled with thought. "I want to get married."

He looked at her surprised, but didn't say anything that might jinx the moment.

"I'm not that girl anymore." The words seemed just as inexplicable and unexpected to her as they were to him. "I don't want to spend any more time pretending to be her. Time won't go backwards, and I don't have to either. You and I, we can make something new. We're worth gambling on." She was blushing. "Besides, the only place I really feel comfortable is the Falcon."

"You're going to marry me for my ship?" Han was smiling as he pulled her into his arms.

"Do you mind?" 

"No. It makes perfect sense to me."


	17. More Savory than Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey fly-boy," she said, her eyes twinkling as she pulled back to look at him, "You know?"
> 
> He smiled back at her, squeezing her shoulders into his chest. 
> 
> "Yea," he said, "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a non-commercial work. This a trans-formative work of commentary. This is for every female solider that never got her full due.

ABY 35

She was sitting at the bar, with a few workmen and some potential investors. The aurora's blazed bright on the vid screens. She was laughing. His shirt was too big on her and she'd belted it around the waist. She wasn't as young as the first time she broke his heart, but the lines on her face fit when she smiled. She was gorgeous. He ached from his sternum to his spine at the sight of her. He hung back and watched. 

"Sorry," she said to a roughneck leaning on the bar next to her. "I'm waiting for my date." 

"You know I heard you say that last night, and I don't think I believe it," replied the roughneck.

"I've heard her say it at least a dozen times," said the bartender. "She's too polite to tell you to go to hell."

"I can't believe you think I'm too polite for that!" Leia threw a napkin at the bartender. "I thought we were becoming friends."

The bartender laughed. 

The roughneck missed the point. He had a broad chested machismo. He was using all of it. "It's not really safe for a woman like you to be traveling with a Wookie." 

"Really?" Leia blinked at him wide-eyed and naive. Looking for all the world like Jania, whose flirting was _not_ a Jedi mind trick.

"Wookies'll turn on you."

She put a hand on her heart in mock terror. "What would you suggest?" 

She sounded sugar coated. Han wondered why the roughneck couldn't see how false it was. Was he the only person in the universe who like women more savory than sweet? 

Leia clearly had the roughneck in hand, so Han scanned the room for Chewie. He was playing chess in a corner, and starting to growl in frustrated cadences. Han walked over, put his hand on Chewie's shoulder, and leaned across the table.

"He says you don't have to let him win just because he's a Wookie, but I wouldn't believe him." 

Chewie gave a surprised chirp, and wrapped him in a bear hug without leaving his chair. Han shushed him quickly and tilted his head toward a still distracted Leia. Chewie's chest rumbled with a purring laughter. 

After untangling from the Wookie, Han sidled up to the bar, getting as close as he could without tipping her off. 

"Oh I've had all kinds," the roughneck bragged. "I brought in those three fat cats last night. I'll be taking them out again in few days, might be able to rustle up a berth for you too. Something really nice," he was leering, "certainly nicer than being trapped with a walking hair ball." 

"Hmm," Leia pressed her lips together, "I don't think so. Like I said, I'm waiting for my date."

"Listen lady, I don't think you get how good this offer is." 

"I must not." 

The bar tender had smartly started clearing the glass wear from the counter. He also quickly covered the drink condiments, snapping lids on the containers. Leia's hand was inching toward the blaster she kept in her boot. She preferred intimidation to open fights, but she'd shoot first if she thought it was needful. Han felt a smile twitch at the edges of his mouth. Maybe this reunion was going to go well after all.

The roughneck oozed disdain. "It's not like some prince charming is gonna waltz in a sweep you off your feet. I can be good to you. I can be a real nice man." 

"Well that's the problem with your pitch right there," Han cut in. "The lady doesn't like nice men. She goes for scoundrels."

Leia's attention snapped to him. She smiled, tried to pull it back by biting her lower lip, and then just relaxed into a wide grin. 

"He's got me there." 

"Hey buddy," the roughneck said. "This is a private conversation."

"Not anymore."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" 

Han pulled out his blaster and set it on the bar, pointed in the general direction of the roughneck. 

"I'm her date." 

Chewie was behind him now. That was always a nice touch. 

"By the way, Your Highness," Han turned his attention to Leia. "Congratulations on winning your bet." 

She squealed and jumped from her seat and into his arms. She stood up on her tip-toes to kiss him. A big, wet, hard kiss that went all the way to his heels. She took up so much room in his life, he could forget how small she actually was. Even on her tip toes he had to hunch over to meet her lips. No wonder she was so easy to loose track of.

The roughneck grumbled, so Chewie loomed a little. He went away, quietly after that. 

"Your Highness?" the bartender repeated shocked.

"You talked Luke into it?" Leia looked up at him happily.

"I guess I did."

She smiled a sly little smile. 

"Not a bad bit of politicking I set up, was it?" 

He snorted. They called him the gambler. He smoother her hair and put a hand on her cheek. They kissed again. Slower and softer. 

The bartender was pacing and muttering to himself, "Leia. Your Highness, Leia. I can't believe-- I didn't think-- Its so obvious! She said she would pay for the damage, but they all-- Oh my. Oh. My."

"Miss me?" Han murmured into her hair.

"More than you could know. Thank goodness you found me, I was afraid I would be lost forever."

"No such luck." He had a sly smile of his own.

"Well, we could be lost for a _little_ while longer, right?" 

"Absolutely. As long as you want. Though Jania might actually become a Wookie, and we've really left Jacen alone with Luke for too long."

"They can sort it out." She nibbled at the underside of his jaw.

"Yes," he agreed. "Yes, they can."

He hadn't picked her up in years, but without thinking about it he swept her up. They needed some time alone. Right now. He wasn't going to give her any chance to run away. She giggled like an eager teenager.

"Hey fly-boy," she said, her eyes twinkling, "You know?"

He smiled back at her, squeezing her shoulders into his chest. 

"Yea. I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this work is super personal to me. Let me know if you like it. 
> 
> I tried my best to really edit all the bugs out, but if you find one, let me know so that I can fix it. I'd prefer to know and get rid of a typo or misspelling than let if float out there and bother a reader.
> 
> Thanks, SteelRigged


End file.
